


Counting Stars

by raynperdition



Category: Black Widow (Comics), Hawkeye (Comics), Iron Man (Movies), Iron Man - All Media Types, The Avengers (2012), Thor - All Media Types
Genre: Abuse, Alcohol Abuse/Alcoholism, Alternate Universe - College/University, Angst, Boys' Love, Dark, Drug Addiction, M/M, Multi, Past Abuse, Rape Recovery, References to Past Child Abuse, Romance, Sarcasm, Suicidal Thoughts, Teen Angst
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2013-06-11
Updated: 2016-05-22
Packaged: 2017-12-14 16:16:31
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 10
Words: 41,331
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/838863
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/raynperdition/pseuds/raynperdition
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>College is more than Loki bargained for when Anthony Stark gets curious about the sullen, dark teenager. Avenger, college AU. Eventual FrostIron. WARNING: Triggering. Mentions of self-harm, alcohol, some drug use, prescription drug abuse, eating disorders, and all manner of sensitive issues. Do not read if this will be detrimental to you, please.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Counting Stars

**Author's Note:**

> Hey guys, thanks for reading. Please review, lemme know whatcha think! This first chapter is pretty short. I've been on other sites, but this one is new to me. So, if I screw something up, don't hesitate to point it out!   
> The other chapters are much longer.   
> The story is pretty long, too. xD  
> Thanks, all <3  
> xoxox, Rayn Perdition  
> DISCLAIMER: I don't own any of the characters (except the few OC necessary). It all belongs to Stan Lee and Marvel.

He looked up through an Adderalll-alcohol haze into dark eyes under furious eyebrows. Green eyes, if he remembered correctly. They made his spinning mind work faster. Shoving back the thick brown bangs that had flopped into his eyes when he fell, he pasted on his million-dollar, Stark Industries protege smile and directed it at the vicious, almost feral teen peering down at him.

"Hey, Frosty, wanna help me up? You know, since you're the one who put me down here on my ass?" He was proud that his words didn't slur. He was getting better at handling himself when he was inebriated.

"No." The simple, singular, lonely word sounded like it contained enough venom to kill a thousand men instead of it's one intended victim.

Muttering grumpily under his breath- because, as usual, the dark teen had a souring effect on his usual drugged up cheeriness- he stood to his feet and stretched. As per their almost bi-weekly routine, the tall, thin, green-eyed, feline teenager just watched him with one perfect black eyebrow arched in a way that was becoming almost endearing to Tony. Mostly, though, his racing mind was sprinting to the side of morbid curiosity. Sure, anything he wanted to know, he merely had to ask the boy's mountain of a brother, Thor. But, to be honest, Tony wasn't sure whether or not he should be scared of the blonde brute.

"Good day, Stark." The glacier- okay, he was more the size of an icicle- growled- could you be  _human_  for a moment, Tony wants your attention, dude- and started to walk away.

"Wait! I'll walk you." He grinned and strolled over to the rigid boy.

A lightning storm seemed to be erupting in Odinson's emerald eyes. "You'll do no such thing." He spit, venom sweeping through his enchanting voice. Tony couldn't help but think it was a shame he was so acerbic, he actually could've been a cool guy- not that he knew a damned thing about the nineteen year old college student.

"Aw, c'mon, Lo-Lo." The brown-haired teen whined.

Fact 1: Tony knew Loki hated his personal nickname for him.

"Oh my  _god_. Stark,  _I don't like you._ " Yeah, because he  _couldn't_  tell that you'd been trying to stab him with your eyes, Loki.

"Really? But everyone just  _looooooves_  me, honeybun." Tony cooed, his alcohol-tainted blood getting the better of him, and winked. Yes,  _winked._

"Goodbye, Stark." The young man sounded defeated and exhausted.

"Bye, Lo-Lo." Tony murmured, watching the other, paler, taller, thinner, and possibly even more damaged young man stride across the campus grounds.

He shoved a hand back through his unruly brown locks. The kid was just too interesting for his own damn good, because Anthony Stark- genius, progeny, teenage millionaire, inventor, and physics, mechanics, and chemistry major, not to mention notorious ladies man- was not going anywhere until he found out every last detail there was to know about Loki Odinson.


	2. Swords & Pens

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Tony meets Loki's dad, Odin Odinson, for the first time at Howard's party. Loki reminisces on not-so-wonderful times.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> WARNING: Self-harm. Some slight mentions of an eating disorder. To anyone who deals with either, or has problems with depression of any type- HUGS-. Love you guys, kay?
> 
> The chapter title is Swords & Pens by The Story So Far.

Tony sighed. Why was it fucking Sunday already? He tugged on the collar of his dress shirt for probably the umpteenth time and glanced at the clock. Dear God, time moved  _so slow._  And really, it wasn't even necessary that he  _be_  here for these things, he just stood in a corner and drank himself numb while his father dragged less-than-interesting bureaucrats to shake his hand and listen as Howie lauded his only child's accomplishments. -barf-

His father was headed his way, this time with a frankly mountainous older man who had white hair and a god damn eye patch-  _eye patch_ , for fuck's sake- when Tony caught a glimpse of a red head in the crowd. Pepper! His hangover-slash-shitty-life-cure-in-heels. Also, his father's secretary and his own self-proclaimed personal assistant.

The pair of old men were by his side and his father was droning through introductions, but Tony  _didn't_  care and wasn't really listening- how could he over the massive amount of booze buzzing in his brain- when something caught his attention.

"Wait. What?" His eyes snapped back to the two men. Brown eyes identical to his own glared at him wrathfully for being rude.  _Yeah_ , like he was ever anything but. -snort-

A hand shoved towards him. "Senator Odinson."

Tony almost choked on his own tongue. Frosty's dad.  _Loki's dad._

"H-hi." He stuttered over the singular syllable. What was wrong with him? Why was this-this  _boy_  impacting him so strongly? He was just some college student Tony had bumped into one day and now he was fucking  _curious._  He needed another drink. Maybe something stronger- and anything stronger would have been nearing _toxic_. Maybe he should see if he could get Loki to go out for- oh. Would ya look at that, he totally tuned out the man talking at him. What a surprise.

"I'm sorry. What did you say?" He asked, again. It felt like his Stark patented smile was going to start  _oozing_  actual charm. He wondered for a second if that was actually possible...

_'Focus, dammit!'_

"You go to the same college as my son, Thor. He's the star quarterback on the football team." The big man flashed a smile that vaguely reminded Tony of the blonde brute.

"Uh. Yeah. Not a big fan of...sports. Hey, isn't Loki Odinson your kid?" He could feel his brown eyebrows pushing low over his likely hazy caramel eyes. His mind was chewing on the Thor comment and how the man  _hadn't_ even  _mentioned_  Loki. Yep, he was definitely filing that away for further analyzing later.

 _'Later, Tony. In other words,_ not _now_ **.** _'_

The man scowled- merely for a split second, but Tony's sharp eyes caught it nonetheless- then his face turned to marble. "Yes. He's studying...art. Or literature or something." He looked away, gazing across the crowd. Howard shot Tony a stabbing glare- which Tony ignored, because he's  _Tony,_ duh- a warning that he better stop fucking around and impress this man. Shmooze charm up about ten thousand indifferent notches.

"So, how's Thor's quarterback thing going?" Tony smiled- fake, as if anyone would notice- and  _pretended_  to listen. It was his gift, the talent of looking very interested while internally his mind was sprinting through the details of some new tech toy he was going to construct.

The man was off like a racehorse on race day. Filling Tony in on all the minor details of his darling eldest.

" _Thank you_ , Pep." He murmured gratefully to the red-head as she led him away from Howard and his cronies. "You're my night in shining armor." He winked as he stumbled along beside her.

"You're slurring. If i waited much longer, you would have puked on someone's Louboutin's." She chided, scowling softly. But there was no real anger or irritation in her blue eyes. It was just an act. The woman  _adored_  him, and, like most, he had her wrapped around his finger.

He sniggered. "You shoulda waited 'til I did. That would've livened up this  _DEAD PARTY_!" He yelled at some businessman he was fairly sure worked closely with his father on a frequent basis. Well, he looked familiar anyways.

"Sit. Drink." She shoved him into a chair at the small kitchen table and shoved some water at him.

He looked at the water in his hand and sighed heavily. "What would I do without you, Miss Potts?" There was a sad sobriety to his voice that he hadn't the state of mind to mask. The alcohol was working him over good tonight. Maybe it was just the insane volume he had swallowed in such a short time that made him a little more  _chatty_.

The idea suddenly occurred to his ever-whirring mind that, without Pepper Potts, he would be even more of a royal, bratty, rich wreck than he was now. He  _would_ be upchucking on Louboutin's and making a complete ass of himself all over the place. Not to mention, his hangovers would be far more miserable without the woman pouring water and Tylenol down his throat. If it weren't for Pepper, Tony would be very much  _alone_. She was all he had. Despite the plethora of people just ready to murder to be his friend because he was rich and famous. Sometimes the perks weren't worth it.

"Drink." She glared at him sternly.

He smiled, appreciating her knack for avoiding what could potentially have been an awkward moment. "So, there's this guy at school. Loki." He fidgeted. "I just met his dad." He snapped his fingers nervously, a habit he had developed at a very young age.

Pepper sat opposite him at the table, a mug of warm tea in her hands. She raised an eyebrow when he didn't keep talking in his usual everlasting ramble. "Go on."

"Well, okay. His dad didn't even mention him. He brought up his older brother, some quarterback guy. I mean, Thor is okay. He's even...cheery. But, the guy was like _favoring_  Thor- and I know it's none of  _my_  business and I don't even  _have_  siblings, for fuck's sake- but , that's gotta be rough as hell. His dad and Howard are two of a kind. I wonder if they're working together? Maybe that's why Howie looked ready to stroke when I asked about Loki. Maybe he knows more about Loki. I should ask him. Get a couple scotches in him and-"

" _Tony_." Pepper sounded exasperated, and he swore Loki sounded just like her when he was looking down his pretty little nose at Tony. Hmm.

"What?" He only sounded a little bit like he wasn't paying the teensiest bit of attention to Pepper. Just a little. Promise.

Really, his mind was still going at about a thousand miles an hour- as usual- and he wasn't even looking at the red-head. The boy he couldn't get his mind off of the past few weeks was making his inebriated mind spin like a carousel on speed. Adderall did nothing to slow down this fast, crazed thought process. Most nights, he couldn't sleep because of it. Nothing entertained him, and he was starting to resort to a frankly alarming lifestyle just to get his brain to screech to a motherfucking _halt_. More and more he found himself doing things he never would have dreamed of, just because he wanted to have fun, be entertained, feel carefree and happy for once. And people were starting to worry. People like...Pepper.

" _Anthony Edward_ _Stark!_ " She thundered, making him jump and very nearly let out an unmanly squeak. _Nearly_.

" _What_!" He glared, feeling a little offended. He wasn't drifting off any more than usual. Shouldn't she have gotten used to this by now?

She sighed and shook her head. "You have to stop with all the drinking. Did you take your medicine today?" Oh, yay. Another question about his medicine. _Everyone_  was a god damn doctor these days.

"I'm not answering that unless you put on a sexy nurse uniform." He smirked when she sighed and shook her head again. What was he if he wasn't the infamously infuriating Tony Stark?

* * *

Loki looked at himself in the mirror. He looked...eh. His hair was just not cooperating. And he wasn't even sure what the deal was. It wasn't as if he was seeing anyone special or anything. But recently, he had been looking in the mirror and wanting to cry more often than not. He was hideous. A monster. His hair was bushy and curly and he had gained some weight and there were dark circles under his eyes because he couldn't sleep and his nose was too pointy and- _and_ - _ **and**_.

He took a deep breath and forced himself to relax. There was no need for him to get all worked up about this. Today was just a normal day. So, he stripped out of his nice shirt and form-fitting jeans and slipped on a loose, comfy sweater he had had for  _eons_  and some sweat pants. He was just going to meet Clint for lunch and tutoring. No biggie. Not to mention he halfway hated the man, but who did he not hate these days? When had he turned into this misanthropic, bitter ass?

When he stripped his shirt off, his eyes landed on his wrist- and the dark scar that tainted his snowy skin. His teeth ripped into his bottom lip. He remembered the day that had been carved into his skin, by his own hand. A morning he didn't really want to remember, ever. But remember, he did. And it ran through his mind like a bad home-movie:

 _"Thor, I swear to the gods, if we don't get home before Odin is awake, I'll kill you before he gets the chance to." Loki swore grumpily. The rum he had drunk really wasn't agreeing with him, and he utterly detested the feeling of not being fully in control of himself. Not to mention, Thor was a giant mass of happiness and awful singing beside him. Was there anything that could put him in a worse mood? Yes. The fact that they were going to get_ caught  _because the Universe hated Loki, he just knew it._

_"We won't get caught, brother! I've planned this all out perfectly. And if they awake, we can merely tell them we went for a stroll because the morning is nice and the air crisp. There is nothing to worry over." The blonde threw a big-blue-eyed beam of happiness his way. It was reflected off him like he was carrying a shield of bitter despair around with him for just such occasions._

_Loki harrumphed and settled deep into his seat. Something bad was going to happen. Well, something bad other than getting nasty smelling alcohol dumped on his perfectly wonderful, cute clothes all night. He picked his shirt up off his stomach, sniffing it delicately. His nose wrinkled. Alcohol. It wreaked of alcohol. And he knew he was being irrationally pissy, but he couldn't help it. He hated parties, and this one had been especially bad since he had stood in a corner all night and downed booze like he actually wanted to be too drunk to walk- not far from the truth, actually- instead of enjoying himself like Thor had. Unfortunately, Thor had been born with a bright patch of sunshiny cheeriness following him around, whereas Loki got a hurricane of depression and misanthropy. The sun coming up over the horizon seemed to smile and flaunt this tidbit of well-known information before him. The scowl on his face got deeper._

_They arrived home. Sneaking quietly inside behind his brother, he nearly collided with the teenage oaf before he realized the boy had stopped. More like, frozen. Peeking around one incredibly muscled bicep, he saw why: A very sleep-deprived Odin sitting at the table looking for all the world like he was going to rip their heads off and eat them for breakfast. Loki considered this a likely possibility. Maybe he had drank a little too much at the party. Alcohol really wasn't his thing._

_"Good morning, my sons." The man rumbled. Loki cringed. He sounded like he had been sitting at that table all night. The hurricane that was Loki's negative emotions picked up speed._

_"Good morning, father." Thor sounded timid. Loki considered this to mean very, very bad things ahead for the two of them. Nothing intimidated Thor. For good reason._

_"Hi." Loki murmured, still halfway hiding behind his brother. They were doomed._ Doomed _. They literally smelled like they had been swimming in booze all night- and really, it hadn't been far from it, Loki would_ never  _get the stench out of his clothes._

_Then Frigga breezed in, still dressed in her robe and her hair in curlers. Loki felt like crying. Frigga. His mother. The last person on earth he could take being disappointed in him. But she wasn't. She merely smiled and pulled her sons into a hug._

_Odin spoke up before his wife had even let the boys go. "I am very disappointed in you-" He started._

_Frigga interrupted. "Not now, Odin. I'm going to get you boys some water and Tylenol. Then you're going straight to bed, do you understand? This can be dealt with later." She was coddling them. Odin's red face proved he wasn't having that._

_He slammed his hand on the table, making Loki gasp and jump backwards, only to have a protectively comforting arm wrapped tightly around his shoulders. The mountain that was Thor was practically shielding him._

_"You, are the troublemaker!" Odin pointed at him. "And you, are the eldest, and as such have a responsibility to set an example. If Loki wanted to take my car, you should have refused to go along and come to alert me." Odin snarled at Thor._

_Loki felt something hot and angry boiling inside him. "Why is it always my fault?" He pulled out of Thor's ever-tightening embrace to square up to his father. "Why is it never Thor to blame? What's so terrible about me! All my life I've tried to please and placate you, Odin, but it's never enough! Never! No matter how many straight A's I get, or how hard I try to live up to your stringent standards, it's just not enough to win anything but your 'disappointment' in me." Loki felt his face grow warm with hot outrage. This had not been his idea, never was he the one to suggest they sneak out to parties or do something stupid that ultimately broke something in the house that was 'valuable' -even if Frigga insisted it wasn't a big deal- and yet it was always blamed on_ him _._

_"Because that's who you are, Loki. Disappointing and trouble." Odin looked down at him with his one eye. The eye patch was still in place from the night before. "No matter what stern measures I go to, you always insist on acting out. And I will not stand for it anymore." The man shot Frigga a pointed look. "You are both grounded until further notice. I need your phones and computers." He held out his hand for their cellphones._

_But Loki was not willing to bend to his tyrannical father's wishes one more time. If he had been, maybe things would have gone he wasn't. "No." It was simply stated, with no rebellious tone. Maybe that's why Odin looked like he was about to fall out in shock._

_By nature, Loki had a defiant streak. But he had always held it in check when it came to his parents. He was the good child, quiet, studious. There were no lengths he was unwilling to go to if it pleased them. But this was the last straw. He was not bowing down to anyone, certainly not a man who obviously disliked him strongly._

_"No?" Odin looked at him, shock keeping it's stance on his time-weathered face._

_"Precisely. It's a two letter word, 'N' and 'O'. It's also negative, the opposite of 'yes', which is a positive word. Need I get out my dictionary for you? You know, the really nice one I won a few years ago in a national spelling bee?" The rebellion rose in his throat like bile. Or maybe he just needed to get rid of all the alcohol raging inside him like angry butterflies set on destroying the lining of his stomach._

_Thor and Frigga were staring at him like he had grown two heads. It was a bit comical. What wasn't comical, was Odin's palm slapping across his face. Now, Loki had realized he was treading on dangerous territory by being disrespectful- his father had always been sensitive to defiance and had stamped it down at the very first sign. But to hit his son, that was a length Loki hadn't considered the man would go to. And, it seemed, neither had Odin. Frigga cried out, rushing to pull him into her arms and Thor was glaring at his father like his death was on the near horizons._

_Loki tasted blood in his mouth, and licked his lip to feel a gushing cut. For a moment, shock numbed him. He just stood there in his mother's arms, staring at the floor in utter amazement. Then, he pushed out of his mother's arms and ran to his room. He slammed the door shut and locked it, leaning back against it and gasping for air although he had absolutely no reason to be breathless. Hysterically, he realized he had been right: Something bad_ had  _happened._

_Then the hurricane whipped around him and he sunk to the floor, sobbing almost pitifully. Thor was already banging on his door, begging him to let him in. It probably would have been best to let his older brother in, Thor was always ready to comfort him or let the smaller boy weep on his t-shirt, only to later rub his runny nose on a sleeve. But that was the thing with Thor, he didn't care if his brother used him as a tissue, he wanted to be there for the darker teenager. And he always was, without fail._

_But right now, Loki didn't want that. He didn't want to be comforted. He wanted the tears to dry up and he wanted bitter coldness to settle in. He wanted to hate Odin. In his mind, there was no other way to get through the next two years without going insane or throwing back a bottle of pills. So, he did something slightly less fatal. Something a close friend of his had just revealed to him that she did when she was upset._

_Still crying hard, he rummaged through his closet, his mind frantic and his heart thumping and he was out of breath again. Finally, he found the object he desired. A hunting knife his brother had given him. He had never used it. Opening it, he ran his thumb across the blade. A small line of crimson oozed slowly when he brought his finger back from the silver blade. He sniffled, entranced. Maybe it would help. If nothing else, maybe it would numb him to the flaming heartache inside his ribcage._

_Biting his lip, he placed the blade on his wrist and pushed. Drawing the blade across his wrist, he felt fresh tears from the sting, making the image of deep running red blurry. He did it again, the endorphins flooding his brain. This was stupid, dangerous even. And it made Loki cry harder and cringe with the pain. But Odin wasn't so dominate in his mind any longer._

_"_ Loki _!" His brother's sudden thundering voice made him jump, driving the blade deeper into his wrist. He yelped._

 _Blood was falling off his wrist and sliding across his fingers in a dramatic display of a_ lot  _of blood. It started dripping off his fingers as he ran to grab a towel and press it to his rended skin. But the volley of red wasn't stopping. Thor was about to break the door down. Frigga's soft voice was melding with his. He was scared and getting lightheaded. So he stumbled to the door and threw it open, shoving his wrist at his mother._

_She let out a startled gasp and took in his terrified expression all in exactly two seconds. Then she was dragging him to her bathroom and ordering Thor to get his father anywhere but in the house. Thor disappeared and Loki was enveloped in the warm security that his mother was going to make everything okay again. She sat him on the counter and quickly stitched and bandaged his arm like a professional. Then she made him some hot chocolate and bundled him up in bed. She sat with him and let him cry on her shoulder and tell her how sorry he was and how he didn't know what he was doing._

_But he wasn't so asleep as to not notice her take the hunting knife from his room with a white-knuckled grip. When she was gone, he broke down. Again. Crying silently to himself because he really_ did  _know what he was doing and that frightened him. Sure, he had never meant to cut himself so severely, but did that matter? He looked at the bandaged appendage on the pillow in front of his face. Tears fell further when he admitted to himself and god that he was on the verge of doing something dangerous, intentionally. But how could he tell anyone that? He didn't want to be anymore of a burden..._

Loki wiped away a tear and washed his face again to wash away all semblance of emotion. Things were better now that he was living on campus. Away from his father and safe in his loneliness. It was safer, hating people and not really having any friends. He wasn't even as close to Thor anymore. They used to be joined at the hip, but now? Now they only spoke a few times a week and got dinner together whenever their schedules happened to be simultaneously free.

Ah, well. Now was not the time to brood. Loki prided himself on timeliness, and it was time to go teach an annoying teenage boy grammar.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you guys so much for reading and subscribing (or whatever it's called on this site, I'm still getting used to Archive of Our Own.) I hope you enjoyed!
> 
> xoxox, Rayn.


	3. Teenagers

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> An uncomfortable conversation, a "stolen" car, cat-killing curiosity, and a word-fuck fight. Essentially, a normal day in the world of two teenagers.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The chapter title is Teenagers by My Chemical Romance. Thank you all for your reviews, subscriptions, kudos, and just for taking the time to read this <3!

Loki sighed and looked at his brother with thinly-veiled disdain. They had three books spread out before them at the library, and really, Loki was trying to be patient. But patience is a virtue, and right now he's kind of running low on virtuousness. So, laying his head in the cradle of his palm, he let his older brother once again explain just  _why_  Loki's explanation didn't make sense to him. Other than his own personal theory that Thor was just a blockheaded fool when it came to intellectual things...like  _books_.

"You're just talking to fast. You do that a lot. And there's a lot of big words. And I'm not as smart as you are, brother." Thor gave him a puppy-dog look that rounded his blue eyes to the point it was almost comical. It was also very effective and worked like an utter charm. Why was he still susceptible to this?

Loki shoved his hair off his forehead and opened his mouth to speak. But he was interrupted by a body inserting itself into the chair next to him. He slid contemptuous green eyes over to encounter one Anthony Stark smiling at him as if he were the sunshine in his world. -barf-

"Hiya, Lo-Lo. Hey, Thor." Stark waved shyly at Thor. Loki almost laughed at the idea that the young inventor was scared of his big brother. But who wasn't, really? The man was huge. "So, what'cha doin'? Smart people stuff, huh?" The boy peered over his shoulder, his mouth moving at a thousand miles an hour. "Ooooh, Professor Coulson's chemistry class. That was fun. I had it last year, kind of unnecessary but hey, requirements are requirements. Steve took it too, I had to tutor him through like the first half of a semester because he didn't get jack shit. But anyways, Coulson gave him like straight A's through the  _whole_  semester. And I'm not saying that I'm not a  _fantastic_  tutor, because I am, but I think Coulson just had a little crush on ole Stevie-"

"My  _god_ , do you  _ever_ stop talking?" Loki interrupted, his eyes wide and his nerves ready to start screaming if Stark said one more word. He chose to ignore how Thor was staring at him with this look that just screamed ' _Manners, Loki.'_  But Loki wasn't one for etiquette when Stark was around. Really, he'd rather jump off a cliff than speak to the rambling genius. -snort-  _Genius_.

"Not really. Especially when I'm nervous. Which I'm totally not right now." The brunette looked away with just the teensiest red coloring his cheeks. "I even talk in my sleep, or that's what my roommate tells me." He shrugged, then turned his caramel eyes to Thor. "I met your dad on Sunday. He was at one of my dad's lets-get-drunk-and-trade-money shindigs." He sounded cautious. Loki felt every muscle suddenly hinge on this annoyance's next words.

When it came to his...acquaintances meeting Odin, Loki was very sensitive. His best friend had met Odin only once, and by accident, when the man had come over to check on his two sons. She had found him just an unsavory as he had, and she had read him easier than a book. Her exact words had been ' _Pedantic, egomaniac with almost no people skills._ ' Loki had almost cried, finally someone who agreed with him. Well, someone other than Frigga, but she loved the man unconditionally. So, suffice to say, a lot of how he treated Stark over the next few years would depend on his feelings toward Odin.

While Loki was off in lala land, he didn't notice how the young man was studying him, as if looking for something in his reaction. "Was he drunk?" Thor's rumbling voice brought them both back to reality.

Stark laughed. "Ah, no. Um, he had a lot to say about you, Thor." The teenager looked suddenly uncomfortable. Loki felt his eyebrows looming low over his now-narrowed eyes.

"Such as?" He was happy with how his voice came out imperial and demanding. He almost sounded royal, and wasn't that perfect when dealing with some spoiled rich kid- never mind that he's just as spoiled and just as rich.

Stark started fidgeting like he was on crack. Loki thought he might go insane if he had to be around the maundering, ever-moving irritant much longer. It wasn't the first time he wished for a strong sedative today. "Well, he was talking about how he's the star...something on the football team. I really wasn't listening at that point. No offense, man." He smiled charmingly at Thor, who lit up like he hadn't been halfway insulted. Really, smiling at Thor pretty much erased any threat he might have conceivably once been. Loki believed the man was far too easily appeased, but that opinion did come from a man who held grudges for literal  _decades_ without batting one pretty little eyelash.

"And me? What did he say about me, Stark?" His voice was bordering on threatening. Which, wasn't exactly necessary, but he liked making the shorter teen squirm. Forget how those caramel eyes were starting to make his stomach flip.

Stark looked away. "He didn't really mention you, until I asked." There was a tense line in his neck that made Loki wonder what was running through his head. "But I mean, he said you were studying, uh, art or literature or something. I guess he was kind of on a Thor kick that night. I mean, I guess, he seemed, um." The boy looked down. "You know, I think I'm like, extraordinarily late for a meeting. Which isn't normally a big deal but my dad might actually kill me if I don't make this one. Or Pepper might, and that would be even-"

"Anthony." Loki spoke the name softly. Stark came to an abrupt halt in both his rambling and his standing. Loki looked up at him to see the boy beaming at him like he had just offered him a million dollars. "What?"

"You just said my name. For like the first time ever. Didn't you? Was I hallucinating? Shit. How many pills did I take this morning? Hey, what day is-"

"Shut. Up. Stark." Loki rubbed his temple gingerly, ignoring how his elder brother was laughing like he had just said the funniest thing since that time he had said 'ass' and Thor had nearly peed himself from laughing. They were four. Yes, that was the last time Loki said something so degrading as 'ass'.

Fact #2: Loki doesn't swear. Ever.

* * *

Tony smirked at the girl in the seat next to him in his dad's brand new car which he may or may not have just stolen. And really, he may or may not have been into the girl beside him. She was pretty, gorgeous maybe even. Long black curls slipped past her shoulder blades and her eyes were a jade shade which tugged on his subconscious annoyingly. It reminded him of someone, but he was too drunk to remember who. The road swung in front of him, and he twisted the wheel just a little too far. Police sirens sprang up behind him.

"Oh my god." The girl whispered, the hand on his thigh disappearing.

He snorted. "Don't worry, gorgeous. I'm Tony Stark." He winked at her, not even realizing how slurred his words were.

A policeman knocked on his window. He rolled the window down, and immediately knew he was screwed. "Good evening, Mr. Stark. How are you feeling?" A young man's face appeared in front of his face. God damn it. A rookie. The young ones were always a pain in the ass. And behind him, stood an old friend (cough- _arch enemy-_ cough) of Tony's. She was the reason Tony already had one DUI on his record from when he was sixteen.

"Why, Officer Hill. How pleasant to see you. And I'm feeling just fine." Damn. Shit. Fuck. He was screwed and Howard was  _not_  going to be pleased. The man might even make him spend the night in jail. Ew.

"Have you been drinking tonight, Mr. Stark?" The young man asked. Maria Hill was just smiling softly at him, with that predatory look that every cat had while a mouse ran with its tail caught beneath her paw. Tony wasn't normally the mouse, and he had found he quite preferred it that way.

He shrugged. "Some coffee. Y'know, the really heavy duty stuff." A shit-eating grin found its way onto his face. "You gonna arrest me for illegal levels of caffeine consumption, Officer Hill?" He narrowed his eyes on her.

"Sir, would you mind stepping out of the car?" Tony sighed, turned to wink at the girl- what was her name again?- then got out of the car like it was the most bothersome thing he had ever done. "Is this your car, sir?" The young man narrowed his eyes at Tony.

He glared at the young officer. "It's my dad's. But, I asked for daddy's permission before going out for a spin." He smiled through clenched teeth, his sarcasm coming out more as contempt. What difference did it make if it was his or his dad's? Nobody had ever asked about the car before. Shit. Something wasn't right.

"Sir, are you aware that this car was reported as stolen an hour ago by the owner?" The rookie smirked. Oh, and it was just so hard for Tony to not take out the rage boiling in his veins by wiping that shitty little smile of his face. He wasn't normally violent, but something about his dad made him want to beat the shit out of something or someone.

"God damn son of a bitch. Maria, you know this is my dad's car." He looked at her darkly. She  _knew_  he hadn't stolen a fucking thing.

"No, I don't. And you are drunk, Mr. Stark. I'd like you to take the breathalyzer test." She smiled at him grimly. "If you don't, you'll be arrested."

Shit.

* * *

Tony was glaring when the policeman came to let him out of his jail cell. He had been glaring all night, at every single person who walked by. He wondered now how many pictures of him getting arrested last night were on the internet? He sighed. More publicity. Bad publicity. Not that he really cared. But really, the perks of being rich almost didn't outweigh all this. He hadn't been able to screw shit up in peace his entire life.

Walking out of the station with Pepper, he was silent. That girl last night...he finally realized who she looked like. Shit. "Pepper, kill me?" He murmured, wrapping an arm around the girl's shoulders and leaning against her lazily.

"Not in a million years." She smiled brightly down at him. Then frowned. "Your dad on the other hand..."

He smiled manically. This was gonna be fun.

* * *

Loki glared at the test under his hands. He couldn't concentrate. That was saying something when normally the boy could read Socrates while his brother played some irritatingly loud xBox game beside him. But right now, there was far too much on his mind. Three things, in fact.

#1: His brother had twisted his ankle in practice. Normally, this didn't worry Loki, but he was being an especial worry-wart today.

#2: Frigga and Odin were taking both he and Thor out for dinner tonight. That was going to be fun. There wouldn't be as many Thor-themed questions to be asked now that the boy was on the bench for at least two more games.

#3: Anthony Stark was rumored to have spent the night in jail for drunk driving and stealing a car (reportedly, his father's car). Now, this really shouldn't have bothered Loki, but he was still curious about the man's reaction about his father.

All in all, Loki just wasn't having a spectacular day. He was looking a little rough, not having slept well last night. The dark circles under his eyes made him look  _awful_ and as usual his horrendous hair was  _not_  coping. And okay, considering the copious amounts of checking-out that girl was focusing on him, he wasn't looking as shabby as he felt. So, he forced himself to pay attention to his sorta kinda important test.

He had never felt so relieved to be dismissed from any one class. Barton trotted beside him, his short legs not able to keep up with Loki's strides. "How was your test?" The man smiled up at him cautiously.

Loki rolled his eyes. "What do you want, Barton?" He sounded so very weary, like he was dealing with a toddler. Not that that was far from the truth, honestly.

"Oh, I was just wondering if you had heard about Tony. He got arrested last night. Have you ever met his dad? He's a dick. Apparently, he said Tony stole his car." He spoke as if all of this was of great importance. Loki really didn't pay attention nor care about the college gossip- of which there was plenty about Stark. But the tidbit about Howard. That interested him.

"His father is an...unsavory person?" And no, he really couldn't bring himself to repeat Barton's name for the man. He wasn't going to use such words just because his acquaintance did. He wouldn't degrade himself to such a level.

Barton looked at him like he had grown a second head. "Uh, yeah. Don't you watch the news, man? Tony's spouted off publicly about him plenty of times. Lemme tell you, get enough booze in that kid, and ask him about his dad...you'll get more information than you bargained for. But hey, it's Tony. If he isn't talking too much, he's either dying or passed out." The shorter of the two shrugged. "That's what's great about him, he's his own entertainment, and man, does he know how to party. Oh, hi, Nat!" He winked at Loki and disappeared after his current crush, and Loki's best friend. He found it hard not to smirk, knowing there would soon be one very disappointed Clint Barton.

His mind chewed on what Clint had said, though. It also turned over the reasons why he might be so suddenly interested in Stark. It wasn't like he liked him. They had absolutely nothing in common, and he was the most nerve-grating creature Loki had ever met. But everything about Howard had piqued his interest. Of course, curiosity killed the cat.

* * *

Pepper dropped Tony off at his apartment with an affectionate, pitying smile. Tony  _hated_  that smile. It was the smile that meant he was in for some fucking awful shit when he hit the other side of that door. There was always a door when it came to Howard. An office door (always intimidating). His bedroom door. A study door in the house. And now, the door to his own fucking apartment. And within the rooms these doors lidded, there was always Howard in his nice suits with his identical hawkish eyes that were just oh-so calculating and stern. Tony scowled at the door. He was almost scared to go in his own apartment. It was bordering on pathetic.

He threw open the door. "Honey, I'm home!" He was his normal bright, drugged up, halfway hungover self that Howard just couldn't stand. And really, what was bettering than getting his already probably pissed father wound up? Tylenol.

Howard was sitting on a sofa with a glass of scotch in his hand. A smirk played with Tony's mouth. That sofa had seen more than it's fair share of his  _fun_  over the past year he had been living here. Blondes, brunettes, red-heads, raven-haired girls. It had seen them all. Howard clearing his throat brought him back to reality. "Did you hear anything I just said, son?" His tone wasn't kind, concerned, or even pissed. It wasn't anything.  _Nothing_. Not a trace of emotion. Because that just wasn't the ' _manly_ ' way. -snort-

"Oh, god, please. I can't even tell if you're frowning. Did you get botox? I told you that-" He was just trying to get the man to  _react_ , for god's sake. Tony had been trying to get Howard to react for years. Almost a decade, in fact.

"Tony, could you try to be serious for a moment? These are some serious charges you're facing." The solemnity of his tone almost made Tony laugh. Charges. -snort- More like some more of Tony's screw ups to be swiftly swept under the rug to disappear for all of time. It wasn't like this type of thing hadn't happened before. "You stole my car. While drunk." And oh, would ya look at the sternness in that man's eyes. Fascinating. Tony wondered if he ever looked like that? God, he hoped not.

He laughed easily. "Yeah, I stole your car. So why don't you just drop the charges? I mean, it'd be kind of redundant to pay fines you instigated." He shrugged. "And the DUI? Hell, you've handled that before. Just make a few calls to your lackeys, and it'll all blow over." Come on, Howard, how many times had they been through this? It should be like the back of his hand by now.

"I won't be paying the fines. You will. You'll need to get a job and pay it all off yourself. I'm through with this, Tony. I am not going to fund any more of your self-destruction. The booze, the parties, the clothes. None of it. I will pay for your college, because that's what your mother would have wanted." He waved a dismissive hand at what he saw in front of him. "But nothing else. Including the rent. So, I suggest you get on with those job applications." Tony stared at him in blood-boiling anger. The man was just sitting there, sipping his god damn scotch like they were having a fucking Sunday brunch together. "I doubt you'll be able to do it, though. You can't really do anything but tinker with machines. I'll be surprised if you can hold down a job for a month." All Tony heard was words like ' _failure_ ' and ' _screw up_ ' in Howard's tone. He had been abandoned before, but all the emotion and hurt he felt right now was boiled down to hard, cold anger. And a very sharp tongue.

He straightened his spine, forcing himself to look unaffected. "So, why are you even here, Howie? Wanna look good for the reporters? Gotta make sure those headlines make you out to be a struggling single dad doing his best despite his wife dying and his son being an eternal fuck up. I bet they think you're doing a stellar fucking job with your prodigy spawn, don't they? You sure have put on a good show, I will give you that. Really, man. Bravo." He laughed. Because if he didn't, he might cry. "Maybe they'll even give you a Grammy." He grinned, that jackal, shit-eating grin he was so good at effecting.

Howard didn't blink. "Maybe if you put some effort into this, and stop being such a fuck-up- as you so eloquently called it- you could make it. You've never applied yourself, Tony. How do you think I got to where I am? I'm not a millionaire because it was handed to me on a silver platter. I worked my fingers to the bone to get where I am to have what I have." Tony marveled at how he looked the perfect businessman, despite the stinging words Tony had just thrown in his face. He fought the urge to scream. Because wasn't this how it always ended? Tony left filled with anger and hurt and nothing to do with it but get drunk and do something stupid; and Howard, ever nonplussed.

But he was right, there were few things in this life that Tony had really worked at. In fact, there were two. One was getting his father's attention. And he had done so in absolutely any way he could. His father had never actually noticed Tony's accomplishments other than to make money off of them or make himself look good. Therefore, he made the man pay attention to him in one of two ways. Breaking things- such as the law- and irritating his father's disgustingly rich clients. A moment of shining pride for him was spilling his steaming hot coffee all over one high-level client's crotch. He had been ten at the time. Can you say ' _genius_ '?

"Funny, you could never work very hard at being a father." He forced tears back, clearing away his cracking voice and grinning. "But hey, them's the breaks." The only thing shielding him from screaming at the top of his lungs how much he hated his father was his unwavering self-control. But he would be surprised if the fire of hell itself wasn't burning in his eyes.

Howard stood, leaving his scotch glass on the coffee table. "Goodbye, son. Good luck."

He and Howard had always been this way. Their relationship consisted of Tony acting out and Howard completely ignoring him. No matter the cutting words, the tears, the objects thrown, Tony was ignored and dismissed. But Howie had never had good relationship skills. Hell, maybe it was hereditary. Maybe that's why Toy couldn't keep a girlfriend to save his life. Or why he hadn't a single friend. Sure, there were people who liked him, but they'd just as soon kick him to the wolves if it suited them. He had learned that the hard way. Trust issues always had good reason backing them.

Tony didn't acknowledge him. He just locked his jaw and stared at nothing in complete silence. His teeth were grinding together painfully. His lungs were dying to explode. But he waited until the door closed behind Howard. Then he picked up that glass and threw it with all his might at the door with an angry, " ** _FUCK_**!"

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hope you enjoy! Please review :)
> 
> ~xoxox, Rayn


	4. Sugar, We're Going Down

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Tony's losing it, Loki's "busy", but somehow, they get dragged into going out with Thor and their friends to a bar. Things get tipsy.
> 
> Chapter title is Sugar, We're Going Down by Fall Out Boy.

Tony glared out the window, his mind buzzed and angry. Something inside him was breaking loose, like a monster breaking out of a cage. It was howling with rage and demanding attention. Bitterness coated his throat like bile. He eyed the bottle of Adderall on the counter, not three feet away. Maybe if he just took a  _few_  more, he would calm down. Wasn't it worth a try? It wouldn't be the first time he had taken more than prescribed. His mind waged a war with itself, to-ing and fro-ing between 'right' and 'wrong'.

He was swallowing three more pills before he could blink. Hey, he was Tony Stark. He did what he wanted. And slowly, the world stopped spinning so fast, and his mind adopted a more manageable pace. He could breathe. The yucky feeling of anger and decade-old bitterness was going away. It would be back, but for now he had peace.

Dragging on a coat and popping up the collar against the chilly wind, he strode out of his apartment. He had to get out of there, or he would drown himself in an angry whiskey binge. Maybe he would try to find Bruce or Clint or Steve. Somebody to keep him from doing something potentially toxic. Not that he hadn't done that plenty of times before...

Crossing the roads was almost hazardous. Everything was foggy and cheery, but beneath it something nagged at him irritatingly. Something called Consciousness. Something he did everything he could to try to bury beneath Adderall and whiskey. He had been doing it for years. Since he had been diagnosed and dosed for ADHD. Funny, back then it had been experimentation and the thrill of doing something 'dangerous'. Now, his intentions weren't so young and innocent.

He strode towards the dorm room that housed his friends slowly. It was a nice night, the air was crisp. He breathed in and felt clean oxygen fill his lungs. The cool air in his body cleared his mind, breaking the Adderall spell momentarily. Then he exhaled and the fog came rushing back. His eyes focused, following a raven-haired teenager across the green grass in front of him. He smiled. This was just  _so_  much better than playing video games with the guys all night.

"Loki! Hi!" He jogged to catch up with the long-legged boy who hadn't stopped at Tony's greeting. Rude, much?

Green eyes glared at him for a moment just long enough to convey how much of a burden it was for Loki to even acknowledge ' _Stark_ '. "What is it, Stark? I'm  _busy_." The boy huffed, still walking far too fast for Tony in his current state.

"No, you're not." Tony's eyes quickly swept across the teenager to find some evidence to said fact. Ah. He was wearing normal people clothes instead of his usual ' _I'm-busy-fuck-off_ ' dressy attire. "You're dressed-down. Meaning you're going home to study." Tony flashed an intelligent, charming smile. Loki didn't fall for it.

Those sea-colored eyes finally settled on him as Loki stopped and turned to face him. "Are you...high?" Loki's face momentarily invaded his personal space. Tony got a whiff of mint and evergreen and winter. It was almost intoxicating.

"Uh. No. I'm medicated. Adderall. I have ADHD. And no, I won't stop in the middle of sentences- Oh hey, your brother." Tony caught sight of the blonde quarterback and offered a shy little wave at the incoming giant.

Yeah. He was still intimidated.

"Anthony Stark! Brother!" Thor's face lit up in a huge, goofy grin. "Me and some of the others are going out for Friday night festivities. Would you join us?" Uh huh. Tony melted when Thor's big blue eyes turned pleading- and they weren't even focused on him.  _Damn_. How could Loki say no to that?

Loki's green eyes drained to a dark forest color. The way they changed shades of green like a mood ring fascinated Tony to no end. Because,  _yeah_ , it seemed it  _was_ possible for him to be  _more_  intrigued about the sullen, dark boy. Really, this was getting ridiculous. He had never been this way with girls. What was it about this kid?!

"No." Of course, Loki's favorite word. "I have things to do, Thor. Unlike you, I have to actually do my homework. I am not getting a free ride because I can throw a ball." Feline eyes rolled delicately, eyelashes fluttering. Tony kept his snickering to himself. Loki was  _such_  a diva, seriously. Like Tony had room to talk. -snort-

"I'll go." He shrugged, it was something to get him away from his apartment and possibly away from his self-destruction. "I don't have anything better to do, _apparently_." He shot a short-lived glare at Loki.

The teenager huffed a sigh. "Don't kill yourselves." Loki muttered, turning to walk away.

Thor shot Tony a pleading, puppy dog gaze that almost broke his heart. Really, those eyes were killer. What was with these two? Messing around with Tony when he's practically medicated off his nut. Not cool, guys, not cool. "Hey! Loki, come on, man. We need you." Tony smiled his 100% guarantee charm magnet smile on. It didn't work.

Loki smiled haughtily. "I know. I just don't care." And damn if he didn't look a bit like a pretty demon. It was actually kind of hot. _Wait..._

"Well, I can't blame you for not coming. Few people can party as hard as I can. I see how it might be intimidating." Tony shrugged nonchalantly, winking conspiratorially with Thor, who just about split his face smiling at him. Damn, could these two be more different?

Loki turned, eyes flashing. Jackpot. A challenge. Never failed with his type, although, Tony wasn't sure he had ever met anyone quite like the tall, emerald-eyed, acerbic nineteen-year old. Maybe that's why he was so curious. Maybe it wasn't how fatally attractive he was. No. Of course it wasn't that. Tony is a playboy. A playboy prodigy, in fact.

"Oh, you have  _no_  idea what you're asking for." Loki threatened, but his lips quirked. Was he... _no_. Surely not. But, yes, yes he was. He was flirting. "Nobody parties harder than a Odinson." And yep, there it was. An actual smile.

Tony shrugged, still pulling off his nonchalance like he was born with it in his bones. "I'm sorry. I just can't believe that. See, I have proof, no one can keep up with me. It's in my DNA." Green eyes fired gorgeously. Man. This was why he liked getting him riled up, his fucking eyes were like a whole new life form. They were a controlled explosion. Tony couldn't get enough.

Loki laughed. That was a first. It was like the glacier of the past weeks had melted to this hot little flame that was suddenly full of life. How hard was he tripping right now? I mean, Adderall had some side effects. But this was just too real. "Alright, Stark. I'll bite. You're on."

Thor and Tony chatted about which club they were going to while Loki sprinted to his dorm to get changed. Tony wouldn't deny that he was excited. Finally, Loki was starting to loosen up. And Tony was beginning to see a new addiction on the horizon; in the form of a tall, scrawny teenager with long hair and soul-eating eyes.

Ten minutes later, Loki came sauntering down the stairs in a loose green shirt that showed off a snowy neck and chest, and tight leather pants that really left nothing to the imagination. Tony was pretty sure he was gaping in a totally obvious way, but with this view, who could blame him?

"You're drooling, Stark." Loki flashed a brilliant grin at him that was equal parts devil and angel. Tony's head was spinning out of control.

"Side effects of the meds." He retorted, trying to keep his cool. Loki narrowed his eyes and arched one perfect eyebrow in a look that told Tony he wasn't fooling anyone. Oh damn. He was so in over his head this time.

* * *

Tony was almost forgetting about the alcohol in his hand. Loki was out on the dance floor. Let's just say, Tony hadn't know the teenager had a wild streak, let alone that he could move like that. And those lights made him look like he wasn't even real. They flashed on his hair, and played with the shadows his high cheekbones already created. He was stunned. This was a side of the teenager he hadn't anticipated. And he was  _not_  used to getting caught off guard.

Thor took Jane out, along with Clint and the girl he had somehow picked up ten minutes ago at the bar, and Bruce and his new girlfriend, to dance. Loki came over, his cheeks flushed and his hair wild. "So, who parties harder, again?" Loki batted his eyelashes and leaned close to hear the ' _obvious_ ' answer.

Tony cackled. "Boy, you aren't even drunk. Come on." He dismissed him with a wave of his hand. Ooo, he was getting good at this acting stuff. "Get some booze in you, and then the court will revisit the case." He had learned from the best exactly how to bluff his way through life. Howard Stark was a class A actor, Tony had seen that up close and personal while his father bragged and doted in front of the television crew cameras.

Loki arched an eyebrow and frowned. "I have to be drunk to party hard? I think not." He lifted his chin, scoffing Tony with both tone and body language. Impressive. No one had ever contradicted him like this before. It was captivating. Really, Loki was pushing Tony far out of his comfort zone tonight. And Tony liked it, for a change.

Sure, Tony was no stranger to pushing boundaries and playing this game of cat and mouse, but it was different with Loki. There was no ulterior motive. Loki was just having fun, and tomorrow morning he would again be the cold bastard he always was toward 'Stark'. This wasn't about Tony's fame, father, or finances. He didn't want in Tony's pants, or wallet. It was refreshing and new and unexpected and Tony couldn't help but  _crave_  more. There was a sense of danger here, with Loki. That feeling that he was walking a tightrope with no net below to catch him when he fell.

"Please. It's the American party scene. If you ain't drunk, you ain't partying." Tony grinned, trying to charm Loki. It had never worked, and he wondered for a moment if he was losing his touch. Seriously, Loki should be wrapped around his finger by now.

Loki rolled his eyes. "I don't drink." He admitted, and was that a blush? Tony almost fell out of his seat. "I rather like being in control of my actions."

Tony gulped down the rest of his scotch. "That's the problem. You're too in control, Lo-Lo. You never let lose. Be more like me, babe. Be crazy, for one night." He pushed his face close to Loki's, expecting him to back away. As always, Loki defied his expectations and stayed right where he was, staring rebelliously in his eyes. "I dare you to spend one night doing whatever crazy stunt pops into your pretty little head."

A small smile spread across Loki's red lips. He pressed a finger against Tony's lips, which acted like an  _electric jolt_  to Tony's backbone. "And what if that stunt would make you  _very_  uncomfortable?" His tone had dropped low and husky, and damn, Tony's mind had taken off and his eyes couldn't seem to look anywhere but into those emerald gems that were  _alive_  with mischief and something else that he couldn't quite understand yet.

He chuckled, laughing off his raging uncertainty in this new direction their conversation was heading. "There isn't anything you can do that would make me uncomfortable." He shrugged. "That's my talent. I make everyone uncomfortable. I do stupid shit that makes people hate me like it's a reflex or something. I guess that's why I'm here, why I push everyone's buttons, why my dad just fucking abandoned me, why I don't have a friend in the world other than Pepper. I'm cancer." He stared into his cup, wondering why the fucking fuck he had just said all that to someone who already hated him. Pushing the glass away, he looked anywhere but at the teenager standing next to him, staring a hole into his head.

Loki turned away and drummed his fingers on the bar for a moment. Tony felt the silence between them crawling across his skin uncomfortably, even though the music was banging almost painfully through his head. The pills were wearing off, because suddenly the world was  _bright_  and agonizingly  _focused_. The lights flashed around him like little lightning strikes, and the music blared against his eardrums like nails on chalk board. It wasn't the first time he hated his penchant for party clubs and loud distractions. But this was what kept his mind off everything that tortured him, at least for a little while. And sometimes, it gave him yet another distraction to take home and keep his self-loathing brain occupied even longer.

"You aren't so bad, Sta-  _Anthony_." Loki sounded hesitant. "Get me drunk, corrupt my innocence." Tony turned to see Loki smiling at him, genuine and stunning.

Tony grinned. "My pleasure."

* * *

Loki wasn't entirely sure what he was doing, he just knew it was a very bad idea that would end in misery the next morning. Drinking had never treated him well, which was precisely the reason he had sworn it off nearly a year and a half ago. Waking up in his own vomit between two people whose names he didn't know and faces he didn't recognize had finally shocked him into the realization that he much preferred his wits about him and his memory a  _functioning_  section of his brain.

All the same, for some reason, he was drinking to keep up with the resident alcoholic. Maybe it was because he felt something like empathy for Stark and his little confession. He had felt much the same way almost his whole life- or at least since puberty. For a long time, he had kept such feelings to himself becoming bitter and cold towards the world instead of talking about it with anyone- including Thor. Maybe that had been a mistake, but one couldn't go back and repair the past, one must merely live with their regrets.

Tony was giggling at something Clint had said, which Loki had effectively ignored, and leaned against Loki unwittingly. The warm contact almost made Loki flinch, but he stayed still. It was the first touch he had felt in a long time that wasn't sexual or harmful. He didn't even let Thor hug him any more. Truth be told, he had sworn off personal contact about the same time as alcohol. Maybe the transition hadn't been from drinking to sobriety, but rather from halfway happiness to full-on bitterness.

"Hey, wanna dance?" Tony was in his personal space, and Loki could smell the whiskey on his breath. The smile on the other boy's face and the way his caramel eyes had turned to burning liquid like the whiskey he drank was a little disconcerting.

Loki merely nodded, finding himself incapable of speech.

_'What's wrong with me?'_

Tony grinned even wider, jumping off the his bar stool and heading out into the writhing, gyrating crowd like he had been  _born_  with a swing to his hips and music in his limbs. Or perhaps he had adopted this world during long, drunk nights of abandonment and desperation. Loki felt a line forming between his brooding eyebrows. He hadn't remembered being such a depressed drunk. The thoughts quickly dispersed when Tony turned to him and took his hands, spinning them around, then pulling him flush against him. The strong arm warm around his waist and guiding him through the crowd made his brain turn to white noise except for one singular thought.  _Tony._

They danced through three songs, mostly mash-ups of pop songs that Loki had never heard before, not speaking a word. Somehow, the silence was comfortable, despite the fact that they had hardly spent five minutes in each other's company without some sort of banter or rambling (from Stark). The fourth song was a slow song. They stood still for a moment, staring at each other uncertainly. Then Loki shrugged and stepped closer, taking Stark's hand and wrapping his other around the man's broad shoulders.

 _'The hell with it.'_  In the morning, he could write all this closeness off as too much alcohol. It was certainly a plausible excuse, if not entirely  _honest_. Some part of him screamed that the alcohol had nothing to do with how he was acting, that everything he was doing was him starting to actually  _like_  the genius that had done nothing rub him the wrong way for weeks. Maybe it was the common vein of pain and bad relationships and self-destruction that made him empathize, or maybe he was just in a generous mood. It made no difference. His tolerance for the pint-sized inventor had changed, either way.

"You're very good at this." Anthony's voice in his ear shoved chills across his arms and spine.

Loki smiled, resting his head on Stark's shoulder. His eyes drifted closed, he was getting tired. The alcohol was working rare warmth into his muscles, he had been up since six a.m. Maybe it would be okay to just relax for a moment, to let Stark guide him around, to follow...

"Let's get out of here." Stark pulled away, only to wrap a supportive arm around him immediately. "You look like you're ready to collapse."

Loki just wrapped his arms around Anthony's neck and ' _mmhmm_ 'ed groggily. Then he let his eyes close for good, this time. It was just too much work to hold his eyelids up any longer.

* * *

Loki woke slowly, feeling the warm blankets around him cozy and soft. Misery quickly set in, though. His headache hit like a  _locomotive_  and he felt the sweat on his skin and the acid coating his mouth. He groaned, not sure if he even wanted to open his eyes.

Beside him, something  _moved_.

He shot into sitting position, opening his eyes and feeling the world dip nauseatingly from his far too quick movements. " _Oh_ , gods." He held his head and winced at the brash light pummeling his brain. His head was throbbing with pain.

He looked beside him on the bed and saw one rumpled, sleeping Anthony Stark.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you guys for reading this, reviewing, giving it kudos ;). It's so sweet of you all! I hope you all have a great weekend <3!
> 
> xoxox, Rayn


	5. My Head's A Prison and Nobody Visits

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Heart-to-hearts over post-hangover pancakes, a business proposition, and bitter memories that really only one person will ever be able to understand.  
> Maybe it's the pancakes, but suddenly, Stark seems a little harder to hate.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter is a little Tony-centric. 
> 
> WARNING: angst. Lots and lots of angst. Some talk of past suicidal tendencies. 
> 
> I do not own any of these characters, in case someone who cares is reading this and might sue me for using their characters. Stan Lee, are you out there?
> 
> The chapter title is My Heart's A Prison and Nobody Visits by You Me At Six.

Loki almost jumped out of the bed.

_What._

_Was._

_Going._

_On._

His heart was hammering. This was not okay. This was not his bed, or his dorm room, or his normal smells, or his bed, or his t-shirt, or his environment, or  _his bed_. He had no clue how he had ended up here or why he was here and oh my god, he was hungover. The room was spinning nauseatingly and brown eyes were looking at him in mirrored shock and where was the toilet because he was about to puke.

"There. Go." Stark's husky morning voice went unappreciated as Loki dashed- this was  _humiliating_ \- for the door to his left, which Anthony had graciously pointed out.

Praise the gods. He retched, feeling the acidic contents of the former night's festivities come back warped into practical  _poison_. Silently, he apologized to his vocal cords. If the world would just settle down and stop shifting beneath him, maybe he would stop feeling so sick. But  _no_. The Universe just wasn't that kind. And feeling Stark silently and, yes,  _sweetly_ , hold his hair back just made everything worse. This was  _gross_. If he wasn't currently the color of a ghost, maybe his cheeks would've been red.

"Are you alright? I thought you had gotten all this out of your system last night." A long, calloused hand rubbed his back comfortingly. For a moment, he didn't feel the urge to stab someone's eye out. That was drastically opposite from the way Stark usually made him feel. Interesting.

"Yeah?" Oh, his voice actually s _ounded_  like his throat  _felt_. Fabulous.

"Yep. Which is, by the way, why you're wearing my t-shirt. In case you didn't remember. And, judging by the look you were giving me back there, you don't remember  _anything_." The implied smile in his voice brought back all those familiar feelings of wanting to scratch Stark's eyes out with his  _perfectly_  manicured nails.

Loki sat back on the hard, cold tile floor and looked up at Stark. He felt a bit pathetic, looking at the young man smiling down at him with disheveled hair and wrinkled clothes. Those caramel eyes brought flashbacks of dancing with him at the club last night, and drinking with him, and  _smiling_  at him. Dear gods, what  _had_ happened? If he found out Stark had taken advantage of him...he was siccing Thor on him.

"So, what exactly did happen?"  _Ew_. His voice was scratchy and rough and ew.

Stark lowered himself to sit beside him, facing him with his legs crossed 'Indian style'. He took a deep breath. "Well, we were slow dancing and you kind of got all relaxed and sleepy on me. You looked like you were gonna fall asleep right there in my arms. So, I, like a  _gentleman_ , was going to walk you back to your room. Y'know, make sure you actually got there and shit. But, we were barely out the door of the club before you threw up in the bushes and begged me to let you go to sleep right there. I practically carried you here, shit-faced myself. I don't know why I came here. But I helped you put on that shirt," He nodded once towards the shirt that hung loosely on Loki's shoulders. "And then we were both out." He shrugged.

Loki was silent, remembering little bits and pieces of the forgotten walk/stumble to Stark's room. He cringed remembering begging the boy to let him fall asleep where he had sat on the pavement, holding his head and halfway to  _tears_. But there was a smile playing with his lips when he remembered Anthony coercing him to change out of his dirty shirt into the one he now wore- which was blazoned with a very faded ' _Metallica_ ' on the front. For a second, he toyed with the hem.

"Th-Thank you." He smiled shyly.

Stark grinned. "Hey, no need to thank me. You helped me as much as I helped you." He shrugged, suddenly starting to fidget. Loki's eyebrows furrowed, he didn't remember helping Stark. "You look like you need some breakfast and water and probably some Tylenol. I can make you some pancakes? I've been told I'm a master pancake-maker." He winked. Loki restrained himself from rolling his eyes, the young man must have had a massive hangover, yet he was still  _flirting._

"How did I help you?" He leaned forward, catching the warm brown eyes that seemed to be looking anywhere but at him.

Stark chewed on his lip, staring at Loki blankly. Then he grinned, so fake Loki almost wanted to  _cry_ \- he had seen that same expression in the mirror too many times to count. "I'm gonna make us breakfast." He stood and started to walk out of the room.

"Anthony." The boy spun to look at him with a genuine smile and puppy-dog eyes. "If you don't tell me exactly what you meant by that statement, I'll leave. And everything will return to as it was." He forced himself not to feel guilty when the bright expression on Stark's face crumpled.

Stark let out a deep sigh. " _Fine_. But let's go in the kitchen. You need water." He held out a hand to help Loki stumble painfully to his feet. He groaned at the pain that flared in his head. "And Tylenol."

"I don't-  _oh_!- take medication." He murmured lamely, his sentence interrupted when his first step was met with a sharp complaint from his burning brain. Even his _eyes_  hurt.

" _Sure_." Stark chuckled.

"Perhaps I can make an exception this once." Loki muttered, sending a scathing glare at the giggling boy who handed him a rather extraordinarily large bottle of pain killers. On the counter he saw several other bottles, one of which was labeled Adderall. There were also several other labels he didn't recognize. "What is all this?" He picked up the bottles to examine them.

Chlorophyll.  _Chlorophyll_. Now that one he had heard of.

"Just my meds. Some for ADHD, some for migraines, some for sleep, some for other stuff." He shrugged, mixing pancake batter and watching Loki with eyes that looked deep and dark in the dim light of the room. Loki belatedly realized this wasn't a dorm. It was an apartment.

"You still have to explain yourself to me." He eased onto a stool sitting by the counter, sipping his water delicately.

Stark sighed and put down the mixing bowl. He leaned on the counter and placed his chin on his fist. "Last night I was really close to doing something... _stupid_. I mean, nothing I haven't done before. But I didn't really want to go down that road. You, and your dancing," He winked salaciously. "Kept me from it. So, I owe you a thanks, too."

Loki narrowed his eyes, regarding Stark intently. He wasn't lying, but he wasn't being completely honest, either. "And? What was this something stupid?" He ran a hand back through his hair, his fingers catching on several tangles.  _Gross_. He needed a brush, but considering the general state of Stark's unruly mud-colored hair, he doubted he even  _owned_  one.

Anthony stared at the batter with a tight expression on his face. Loki eyed him. This wasn't easy for the young man, as Loki imagined it wouldn't be for he himself. But he still demanded answers, or he'd be out of here so fast Stark's head would spin. Loki Odinson  _never_  made a threat he didn't keep.

Fact #3: Loki rarely lies. He merely twists the truth to suit his desires.

"Well, I was going to down more alcohol and pills than was really... _necessary_." He shrugged, something dark and stormy entering the brown eyes Loki was finding himself becoming fond of. Loki felt that what he had experienced of Stark was the medicated calm of that brewing storm.

"Why?" He picked at a growing hole in his jeans. He needed to go shopping.

Stark sighed. "You sure do ask a lot of questions, Frosty." Loki glared. "Okay,  _okay_. Turn down the megawatt glare before I burst into flames." Loki had to remind himself not to smile, that  _wasn't_  cute, Stark. "My dad and I had a really bad...well, he told me he wasn't going to be 'funding my screw ups' any longer." The brunette shrugged, obviously trying to play the indifferent card. Loki wasn't buying it. "I was pretty pissed." He smiled, trying to charm Loki out of asking more questions. Like Loki would be so kind. -snort-

"Is this because of your incident the other day?" He rubbed circles into his miserable temple with his thumbs. Being hungover was probably the worst pain he had felt in years. It was like being shot. In the head. With a sawed-off shotgun.

Stark looked at him so fast he must have gotten whip-lash. If it wouldn't have hurt, Loki might have let out that evil laugh that always scared Thor into submission. Likely, it wouldn't have had the same effect on Anthony. He sighed, cringing at the  _disgusting_  sensation that had seemed to seep into every nook and cranny of his lithe, tall body which, at this moment, was entirely too large for comfort. His stomach rumbled hungrily, but the idea of food made him want to head back for the bathroom.

"Yes. Somewhat. Me and my dad haven't really ever gotten along. Especially since my mom died." He shrugged, filling Loki's water glass up again. "Drink more. You've gotta be dehydrated as fuck. I've never seen someone get so sick before." He patted Loki hand soothingly.

Loki looked at him askance. "Probably because you are normally the one getting  _that_  sick." Stark laughed, making his head thud extra hard. " _Shut up_." He laid his forehead against the table and groaned, sounding completely pitiful.

"I'm sorry, Lo-Lo. If you eat, it will help. I promise. You gotta get something on your stomach." He shoved a plate in the direction of Loki's head. If he got syrup in Loki's hair, he would die a slow, painful death. "Come on, sunshine." He nudged Loki with the clean end- luckily for him- of his spatula.

"Call me that again. I  _dare_  you." He growled, sitting up and eyeing the fluffy breakfast explosion of calories. He was fairly sure he gained ten pounds just  _looking_  at it.

"What would you prefer? Darling? Baby? Sweetiepie? Cupcake?" He dodged the fork Loki threw at him. "Honeybun? Boo?" He laughed when Loki just glared at him silently.

"Call me any of those, and I'll have your head hung above my fireplace." He snarled, sounding completely feral. The light in Anthony's eyes gave him an unexpected spark of satisfaction. Nevertheless, he refused to be charmed even if it would be totally acceptable in his mental state. As in, state of complete debilitation. He was afraid to move for the ceaseless pain that refused to abate.

"Since you asked me twenty questions, do I get to ask you some?" The pure innocence in his eyes put Loki immediately on guard. "It won't be anything so probing as your Inquisition, cross my heart." He batted his eyelashes playfully.

Loki narrowed his eyes. "No. We made no such agreement, so my life is off limits."

Stark pouted. "But then you can ask me more questions." He proffered. Loki smiled, little did the inventor know he had played this game many times before, and was therefore King of such situations.

"I can anyways. I never asked for permission." He smiled innocently in the face of Stark's irritated glare. "What did you think of my father?" He leaned on an elbow, pushing his pancakes around on his plate. His stomach was growling like a  _lion_ , but the idea of eating wasn't quite bearable yet.

Stark sighed, flipping a pancake before he answered. "Well, I don't know. I kind of tuned him out once he started droning on about Thor. I mean, your brother is cool and shit, but I don't really care to know how he won this game or that. I was more interested in you." Loki thought the young genius's cheeks turned a little pink. Interesting. "And, well, he was reluctant to talk about you and my dad was glaring at me for even asking about you, so I figured I'd drop the subject and let the man get the whole Thor saga out of his system while I drank myself to oblivion." He shrugged his broad shoulders. "Too, he didn't even mention you at first, I had to ask. That wasn't too cool, in my opinion. But I don't know, maybe he just thought I would know only Thor 'cause he's popular and some shit. And I'm all space-agey and you're all classical, and usually the two go down separate paths." Tony brought his wrists together then pushed his hands in opposite directions. "But anyways, yeah." Eyebrows pushed down over Stark's caramel eyes. "Did I answer your question?"

Loki blinked.

So, Odin, as usual, had pretended like he didn't even exist. Not a surprise, in the slightest. So why was he feeling that usual pang in his chest that reminded him that _oh yeah_ , he actually  _cares_  what his family thinks about him. Unfortunately, all that had ever brought him was pain and the miserable question of what he had done wrong to make them dislike him. The mirror always answered his question, remind him of his pale complexion and dark hair and green eyes in comparison to their golden skin and flaxen hair and sapphire eyes. They were big and strong while he was thin and intelligent. It was like he wasn't even part of their family. He saw the looks he got when Thor introduced him as his brother. People could tell he wasn't normal, he didn't fit, he was in the wrong puzzle.

"Yes, yes, you answered my question quite efficiently." He waved a dismissive hand, ignoring the perturbed glare he got for treating Stark like a peasant. "So you really have no opinion?" His eyes found Stark's again. Oh, he  _did_  like those warm eyes.

Stark shrugged. "I don't really know enough to have an opinion. Thor seems to adore him, and you're your usual impenetrable wall of calm neutrality. So, I don't know." He cocked his head. "But, I could take your indifference as a masquerade to hide how you really feel. Usually people don't hide positive emotions, only negative ones. So, I could conclude that your father is a hard bastard whom you hate. Then, I would say I dislike the Senator. However, were I wrong..." He gave an indifferent gesture of his hands. "What difference does it make? Not like you'll give me any reaction to-"

"Dear god, you talk too much." He buried his face in his hands, idly wondering why Stark's voice didn't hurt his head like it should when he had such a massive hangover. He looked up. "You know, by your own reasoning, your indifference to your own father and his recent treatment of you means that it actually  _does_  effect you on some deeper level." He leaned forward. "So tell me, Stark, what's the real story between you and your father?" He could feel the curiosity just eating away at him.

The man grinned. "You're deflecting, Lo-Lo." He piled more pancakes on Loki's plate and ignored the flesh-eating glare he got for it. "You need to eat more, you're too skinny." He shrugged, eyeing Loki's thin form in his t-shirt. And Loki would never admit it, but he was starting to love wearing the inventor's t-shirt and the pungent smell of gasoline, grease, and smoke that emanated from the fabric. "Alright, do you really want to know all the nasty, dirty,  _awful_  secrets between me and my big,  _bad_ dad?" He leaned on the counter, eyes locked on Loki in a way that made the young man feel almost naked beneath those big brown eyes.

He smiled mischievously. "Yes. I do so  _love_  dark secrets." He winked. Yes. Loki  _winked_. Will wonders never cease?

Stark's grin got wider. "You gotta promise not to tell a soul, though." He held out his pinky.

Loki laughed freely. A _pinky promise_? It was like they were in grade school again. But, he reached out and twined their pinkies together, despite how juvenile and young it made him feel. Maybe it wasn't such a bad feeling around the devil-may-care teenager. "I  _promise_ , Anthony." He purred.

Stark's face melted into a warm look of appreciation. "I really love hearing you say my full name. I've always hated it, but somehow you make it sound okay." He let Loki's finger go. "Well, the big secret is..." He sighed and sat down on a stool, leaning on the counter heavily. "When my mom died, I was devastated and felt a lot of it was my own fault. Like she had died because of something I did. My dad alienating me essentially just made that guilt a lot stronger. So, the night after her funeral, while he was drinking himself senseless, I was as well. But for a purpose." He spoke slowly and bit his lip, dropping his forehead to his arms on the table. "So that I could end my own life. You know, a life for a life. Maybe if I killed myself, I could be relieved of all sin. I don't know what was really running through my head. But I was fourteen, and I've never been known for one to have the best ideas. I grabbed a bottle of Vicodin and downed about twenty pills." He looked up, his face weary and drawn and almost  _old_ , for a moment. "Stane found me passed out on the floor, halfway dead already. He called an ambulance and I got my stomach pumped and a therapist trying to help me sort out my issues." He shrugged. "It was all swept under the rug like it never happened, and my dad never visited me while I was there. For about three years, I couldn't even stand to be in the same room with him. I got out of there as fast I could, entering college about two years after all that." He smiled shakily. "There you go. All my hidden secrets bared before you. You've seen my  _soul_ , Loki." He told him with mock solemnity.

Loki stared at him in silence for a moment. Well, Stark had certainly surprised him. The young, cocky inventor obviously had a destructive streak, but suicidal? That wasn't what he had pegged him for. He had considered him a rich and spoiled brat, blowing money just because he could. The girls, drugs, and alcohol had seemed only natural considering his financial status and popularity. Many in his position fell to the same vices. But hearing this...it changed his mind about the teenager entirely.

* * *

Loki left not long after Tony's confession, leaving his head a spinning maelstrom of thoughts. He was currently a brooding  _wreck_.

His attempt five years ago had left him a shaking, skinny mess with a wild side that was really nothing but a death wish. And that drew people to him, the loud desperation to drive his life straight off a cliff. It was a spectacle, and teenagers were drawn to that like flies to honey. Tony was their walking, talking reality TV show. He was rich, famous, and losing his god damn  _mind_. It was just a matter of time until he imploded in on himself.

At first, he had fully believed these kids were his friends. That they had only pure intentions in hanging out with him. Until the night they had begged him to steal his dad's vintage 1940's convertible, and go bar hopping with them. He didn't realize at the time that he was merely their free alcoholic ride. Because being friends with Anthony Stark meant as much free booze as you could drink, no matter your age. He had returned home at noon the next day, breezing home with a scratched car and a hangover. He had laughed in the face of Howard's fury all on his own. He had taken the punishment, standing with a straight back as his father ranted at a completely unheard-of decibel, alone. He had withstood the hell his home life had become all by himself.

It was then that Tony realized he was completely and totally  _alone_  in life.

It wasn't for nothing that he became the lone wolf he was now. And no one understood, because no one had been through what he had. But that was just another aspect in which he was alone in this big, wide world.

* * *

Tony was snoring through his physic's class when something slammed. He sat up with wide eyes and his heart hammering. Beside the professor's desk, there was a pretty girl in a flawless black suit. He sniffed, eyeing her with mild curiosity. Totally the type of girl that would drown in his destructive, ' _bad boy_ ' behavior. So, why wasn't he interested? Normally, he would start acting up in class, making snide remarks that would have Professor Bettany rolling his eyes and ready to  _shoot_ himself in the foot just to get out of teaching the rest of the class.

"Alright, that's fine. Tony?" Bettany waved him over.

Feeling his eyebrows shoot up into his messy bangs, Tony got up and half-stumbled his way to the front of the classroom. "What?" He rubbed his eyes sleepily.

"Mr. Stark, your father sent me to fetch you. He needs you at the office." She smiled politely. He didn't fail to notice the curiosity in her curt voice. Ah, she was one of old Howie's new 'flames', which was more like an ember that went out in a month or two. Like father, like son.

He raised one eyebrow. "Has he ever heard of this new space-age technology called ' _cellphones_ '?" He grumbled, completely unwilling to bow to his dad's commands. I mean, the dude had sent him on an addiction spree less than a week ago by telling him he was on his own in this lovely world. He was  _still_  looking for a damn job.

She shrugged. "He said you wouldn't answer his calls." Valid point. "Besides, he said you were going to want to come. This apparently involves you and your future." She smiled a fake apology.

Sighing deeply, Tony turned on his heel to grab his laptop- which he had been drooling on mere minutes ago- and followed the pretty blonde out of the room. Her walk was fast and long-legged, which made it hard for him to keep up while rubbing the sleep out of his eyes groggily. So, he settled for trailing behind her like a boy following his mother in the supermarket. She had a nice ass, so it wasn't a terrible view. Nevertheless, he found himself looking around the campus as they strode towards Happy in his father's black Mercedes. A tall, pale teenager standing beside a mountain topped by a blonde mop caught his attention.

"Hey, Thor, Loki." He slapped Thor on the back in that overly affectionate, brotherly way all men have. "What's up?" He ignored the burning green eyes that made him feel like he was on  _fire_.

"We were just talking about going out for a repeat of the other night's festivities." Thor smiled down at him with what seemed like his own personal sun. Tony blinked. "Would you like to come?" The kindness in his voice made it sound like anything but a polite gesture.

"Thor." Loki sounded like a demon. A  _stern_  demon. "You have a test to study for." His eyes were boring holes into Thor's head.

Then, Thor poked his bottom lip out in a pout that rivaled any child's. Tony almost melted into a big, doormat of a little puddle right there. " _Please_ , Loki? You can come make sure I'm home at a considerable hour?" Thor pleaded, big blue eyes almost shining with entreaties.

Loki put his hands on his hips and cocked his head with absolutely no sign of expression or emotion anywhere nearby. "No." Tony was beginning to think the Lit student had a surprisingly limited vocabulary...

"Oh, come on, Loki. I'll make sure you don't drink yourself into the carpet again." Tony winked at him. "I had no idea you could party like that, Britney." He teased.

Thor looked confused. " _Britney_?" But he went largely ignored. Tony and Loki were completely caught in each other, and this little game they were playing. Because, don't we  _really_  know what's  _inevitable_  here?

"Comparing me to Britney Spears? Why, I thought I was more the Angelina Jolie type." He smirked. He took it all so smoothly that Tony almost fell over.

"They tell me I'm the next Brad Pitt, y'know." He winked at the almost burning individual smirking at him. Fuck him, he was a  _goner_  now. He just didn't really know it, yet.

Loki snorted. "I'm sure. Nevertheless, I wont be going tonight, brother. I have an unavoidable report that I must work on." He shrugged a half-hearted apology at the hulking teen. "And, Brad, don't have too much fun without me, darling." He winked charmingly. Really, Tony was close to having a full-on heart attack. Stop, Loki, it's too much for Tony to handle.

Tony watched him walk away, watching the swing in his hips and the confidence in his stride. He was entranced, forgetting Thor and his dad's assistant, until a throat cleared. He jolted back to the present.

"Can we leave now?" Miss Flawless had a petulant look on her face that made Tony want to claw his eyes out.

He nodded, following her like a man walking the green mile.

* * *

Tony walked into Howard's office without knocking. The man sitting across from his father gave him a look just filled to the brim with contempt and distaste. Tony rolled his eyes and felt his lip curling. Why had he come again? Oh, yeah, a moment of bad judgment. No? Perhaps because he hoped his dad would repent of his ways and let him back into his bank accounts. Warmer. Maybe it was him giving Howard yet another chance to be the dad he had always wanted and needed. Ah, _yes_. That's right.

His foul mood only got worse when the man left and Howard ignored him.  _Ignored_  him. He had come all the fucking way down here, only to be ignored. It felt like his entire childhood all over again. Hadn't he gone to college to get away from all this? Why hadn't he chosen a college further away? Oh well, it probably wouldn't have deterred Howard, he was a multimillionaire, after all.

Tony picked up an expensive glass paperweight and juggled it for a moment, pacing. His father was shuffling through papers, signing stuff and reading contracts. But soon, it became too much. "Why am I here?" He whipped around to look at his father. "I thought you were disowning me or some shit." Howard looked at him calmly. Tony wanted to  _scream_. Would  _someone_  fucking  _react_?!

"I never wanted to disown you, Tony." Leaving out the inevitable ' _But I had to since you're such a fuck up._ ' "I need you on a project of Obadiah's." His eyes were those of a hard businessman, not a father.

Tony almost threw the paperweight. " _You_ \- You called me here to, what?,  ** _hire_  **me?" His voice was shaking and high, on the verge of hysterical.

"Yes. You'll get paid for your time and contribution." There wasn't an ounce of emotion from the man in front of him.

Tony laughed. "Oh, I'll get paid. That's rich. I'm Tony fucking Stark, Howard. I don't need your goddamn money to get all the booze I need to make your life hell." He snarled, slamming the paperweight down on Howard's desk. It dug into the wood, carving off an inch slice of mahogany off. "You underestimated me. I'm the son of Howard Stark. I can be  _cold_ , I can be  _calculated_ , and I can  ** _ruin_  **you." He snapped. "No. I won't bow to your will and help you with your fucking death machines. I am _not_  you."

Howard sat back, looking at him with dark brown eyes. "No, but like you said, you  _are_  my son. And you are cold and calculating and just as much a businessman as I am. So, where's the difference?" The cold inflection in his voice made Tony's blood boil.

"I wouldn't leave the only family I had left." He stood, brushing off his t-shirt and smiling grimly at Howard. "I'd give a shit more than how much money my son could make me. But hey, that's just me." He shrugged.

Howard snarled. "You took away the only family I had left." He growled.

Tony's heart screeched to a stop, trainwrecking on his father's words. His eyes went wild and he dropped the paperweight. It hit the floor with a dull thud.

"You took Maria away from me. It's  _your_  fault. And then that stunt you pulled after her funeral?" He laughed. "You're a selfish child, Tony. You always have been." He shook his head, looking away from his stunned son.

Tony blinked. "Y-you don't mean that." His voice was barely audible, his throat constricting.

Howard looked at him again. "Really? She got in that wreck because of you, Tony. If you hadn't been acting out in school, she wouldn't have left the house. She wouldn't have been driving in that condition." He leaned forward, mouth twisted by the most emotion Tony had seen on his father's face since he was in elementary school. "She's dead because of  _ **YOU**_." His voice had dropped to an almost menacing tone.

"Sir, your ten-"

" _GET THE FUCK OUT_!" Tony thundered, turning to face the pretty blonde. " _ **Get out**_." His eyes were on fire. When the door closed, he turned back to his father.

"Nothing like me, huh?" Howard chuckled and shook his head.

"I'm the selfish one? How can you sit there and tell me it's my fault my mother died? I  _loved_  her, you bastard. She was my mother and  _she_  loved me. She gave me what you refused to. You just sat there day after day, watching me like I was a parasite! What did-

"Aren't you, Anthony? Isn't that all you are? You sucked the life out of your mother, and you'd do the same to me if I bowed to your every whim like she did. You'll do it to everyone you know, because you're just a  _leech_. A  _tick_. A _tiny, insignificant_   **parasite**."

Tony backed away. "Go to hell." He snarled.

Then he was out the door and racing down the hallways, dodging people and flying past Pepper without a glance. He didn't look back when she called his name. He had to get out of there. He needed- he  _needed_  someone. Anyone. Someone who knew what had happened. But there was only one such person, and he doubted they'd give a shit. But it was worth a try.

* * *

His car screeched to a stop in the parking lot of the college, tires screaming. The students still milling around on the green looked at him when he flung the door open and got out, pulse still racing. His hands were clenched around his keys so hard he was fairly sure his palm was bleeding. He could feel every nerve on end, high-powered and  _raw_.

As he started for the dorms, it began to rain. Softly at first, but quickly turning into an all out downpour. People began rushing for shelter, but he didn't run. If he started running now, he wouldn't stop until he got to Canada. So, he walked, feeling the pelting rain run down his face and neck, slipping under his clothes, drenching his shoulders and hair. By the time he got to the dorm, he was shaking cold. Chills ran across his skin like little spiders, crawling over him like a  _plague_. The tears were welling up in his chest, and sobs were starting to shake him as he knocked on the door.

The door flew open and there stood Loki, hair wet and t-shirt adorned. " _Stark_?" Confusion drenched his features.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you guys for all the views, reviews, kudos, and subscriptions!!! I love you all, and hope you guys are having a good week!! <3
> 
> ~xoxox, Rayn


	6. Ohioisonfire!

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Tony's breaking down and it's all Loki can do to keep up.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The chapter title is Ohioisonfire! by Of Mice & Men.
> 
> Lots of angst, and a little bit of fluff.
> 
> Hope you enjoy!

" _Stark_?" Loki's voice was more confused than his features, but Tony really couldn't see that through the tears starting to leak over his eyelashes. "What's wr-"

Tony stumbled, falling into Loki's arms weakly. Sobs were shaking his body, and it was all coming so fast and so hard that he couldn't stop it. Not this time. He was an emotional wreck and he couldn't fucking hide it this time. Even if this was  _Loki_ , Loki who halfway  _despised_  him. Even if it was really fucking sad that in the whole wide world, he had only a pompous teenager -who would just as well scratch his eyes out as look at him- to come to.

But the youngest Odinson didn't push him away. He didn't make any disgusted noises or say something snide and arrogant. He merely wrapped his arms around Tony and let him sob- snotty and messy- into his t-shirt.

But Tony didn't think of any of that. He didn't inwardly thank Loki for the kindness and compassion he was suddenly showing, or analyze the reasons why Loki might have had this change of heart- instead, he remembered what his father had said.

The words were running around in his head in circles, chasing each other like a mutt chasing his tail. It felt like hot rods were poking at his brain, and the fiery tears running down his face, and the shivers wracking his body, it was all an assault on his already fragile senses. His nerves felt stripped raw and something inside him was breaking. Was it his heart? Did he have a heart to be broken at all? Was this just some delayed reaction to all the shit he had been through the past five years? Maybe it was all hitting him now. The suicide attempt. The contemptuous relationship with his father. The rollercoaster college experience. The casual fucks who never had a name and the booze that was more precious than gold to him. The prescription drug abuse. The non-prescription drug use. The fact that his father considered him a life-sucking parasite who had killed his beloved wife.

He sniffed and hiccuped, trying to choke the tears and overflowing emotions down. "I'm sorry." He croaked, pulling back and wiping his snotty nose on his sleeve. Disgusting. "I don't know why I'm here or what I'm doing and I just...I'm sorry." He couldn't bring himself to look away from his shoes. He felt ashamed for being here, for feeling like he could sob on someone's shoulder because they knew a stupid fact of his childhood. A fact, mind you, that had almost killed him.

Loki's hands still rested lightly on his shoulders, not entirely letting him pull away. "Anthony, why don't you come in? Hmm? I'll make you some coffee. My roommate isn't here." A snow-tinted hand twined with his, tugging him inside into the warmth. Loki's hand was as cold and cool as the weather it reminded him of.

 _'She's dead because of_ _ **YOU**_ _.'_ Tony almost choked as the words rang through his head. His entire body went rigid and Loki turned to face him.

"What's wrong?" His voice was like silk in Tony's ear. But it didn't soothe him. He felt unworthy, useless, like his father had hit the nail on the head. Tony was a parasite. And he  _hated_  himself. He shouldn't be here.

"I-I should go." He stuttered, still not looking at the misanthropic teenager who suddenly had a heart.

"In your condition? I think not." Loki's hand latched around Tony's wrist. "Look at me, Anthony." Tony's chin was engulfed by an Arctic hand. He looked up into eyes that were almost the exact color of the forest. "What's wrong?" The words were emphasized, trying to get Tony's attention.

"It's my fault." The words were barely audible, but Loki's hand tightened around Tony's wrist. "It's my fault she's dead. He's right." He shrugged, the tears falling again. It was like a river he couldn't dam.

Loki wrenched him into his arms. "Don't you dare say that. Ever." His words were as fierce as his crushing hug. Tony melted, crying into his shoulder again. "Do you understand?  _Never_  say that in my presence again or I will slap you." He murmured, his feral tone practically oozing fury. He took Tony by the shoulders and shoved him back so they could look in each other's eyes. Tony stared at the wet spot on Loki's shoulder from his ever-flowing tears. "Look at me." He was growling like a wolf. Tony obeyed. Their eyes stayed locked. It felt like Loki was searching his soul. "God, you  _really_  believe it, don't you?"

Tony nodded, his breath hitching at the sharp ache in his chest. "Because it's true." He whined, sounding very much like a crying toddler who had fallen on his butt. "If I hadn't gotten in trouble, she never would have gotten in the car. She never would have been in that accident. She'd be okay, Loki. She'd be  _alive_  right now." He sniffed loudly, scrubbing his wet face with damp sleeves. " _It's all my fault_." He whimpered.

* * *

Loki stared at the young man in front of him, listening to his tearful confession and trying to stifle the feeling of his heart banging against his ribs and rending itself in two. Those brown eyes he adored were glassed over with tears and powerful emotions like regret, guilt, grief, and the torment of heartbreak. To Loki, it seemed more likely that Anthony's heart had been demolished by a cruel and spiteful hand. A hand he had no doubt belonged to Howard Stark.

"Shush, Anthony. That's  _not_  true. It was an  _accident_. You had nothing to do with whether it happened or not." He knew the words were useless. What the young man was feeling was something words could never abate.

"I wish I hadn't failed. I wish I was dead." Stark murmured, his eyes drifting towards the floor again.

Loki felt his heart constrict painfully. "Oh, no, love.  _No_." He pulled the engineer into his arms again, crushing him against him as tightly as he could. "Don't think that way." He cooed, feeling the young man respond by squeezing him around the waist so tight it almost cut off his breathing. "Come now, hush." He pulled back a few inches, running his thumbs under Stark's eyes and wiping away his tears.

And really, this was brand new territory for Loki. He had never comforted a soul. Not even Thor, who was too  _manly_  to cry in front of his baby brother. There wasn't a logical reason on earth why he should be standing here with this annoying young man that he often wanted to rip into pieces, comforting him with all the compassion of Mother Teresa. Yet here he was, and right now he wasn't going to question his motives, he was just going to  _do_. Because Anthony needed someone, and he  _needed_   ** _Loki_**. No one had ever needed Loki before. It was a strangely amazing feeling.

"I'm sorry." The boy mumbled, sniffing like a baby. Loki ignored how adorable it was as he pulled him towards the couch.

"Don't be sorry, Anthony." He murmured, letting his voice turn silken and soft. The serenity of his own voice had often comforted him as he sang through pain along with the radio. Perhaps it was the gods way of saying they were sorry for turning his life into such an unbearable hell. "You can stay here for a while, until you're okay." He offered, getting up to finally make that coffee he had suggested. He had noticed Stark shivering from the cold seeping through the cracks in the window sills and the chill of his damp clothes. His own wet scalp was causing shivers to envelope his slim body. Goosebumps trailed across his skin like nomads.

Stark sniffled. He seemed so little, so  _young_. Loki felt like patting his head and telling him they could watch an action movie to cheer him up; like he would have had the boy been a five year old. Maybe even give him some ice cream. But Stark was  _anything_  but young and naive. His cure was alcohol and pills he truly didn't need. Sure, he had ADHD, but Loki knew Stark was taking  _far_  more than prescribed. Was it an addiction? Or a vacation? Or both? And, Loki had noticed it didn't help his wandering attention span, which was really closer to that of a  _gnat_  than an engineering, scientific genius. The medication wasn't helping Stark, it was  _hurting_  him.

"Thanks, Lo-Lo." The teary-eyed teenager offered him a shaky smile. It made a little blossom of hope bloom in Loki's chest beautifully. "I'm really sorry. I've never done this before. I just- I couldn't be alone after...everything." He shrugged, the apology in his eyes far more sincere and honest than the one that tripped and stumbled awkwardly off his tongue.

Loki smiled and nodded understandingly, because he did. Everyone goes through that moment when, if alone, they will undoubtedly do something they will regret- if they they wake up the next morning. He had been there too often. He remembered nights of him and Thor staying up to viciously play video games until dawn the next morning that had kept him from making many mistakes he would have regretted today. "You don't have to apologize, Anthony. Really, it's  _okay_." He handed him some warm coffee. He remembered the chill off the other boy's body when they had collided at the door. It was the first hug he had had in  _years_. "I am _not_  a heartless bastard. No matter what the rumors claim." And there were rumors, just like there were rumors for Stark. They were just of a widely different strain. Stark had sex rumors. Loki had rumors running around about why he was oh-so acerbic and misanthropic.

And they were all wrong about him. He just didn't like people, for multiple reasons that were privy to him and him only. Panic swept through his chest at the idea that someday, someone would figure him out for what he  _really_  was. Secrets, secrets were the key to happiness. Not that Loki was happy, but who the hell was these days?

Stark frowned at him. "The last time I heard a rumor, it was after my mother's death. And about my suicide attempt. I stopped listening to rumors right then and there. They hurt more than anything. Gossip isn't harmless in any shape or form." The boy growled, his eyes flashing at the memory. Loki fought to look away, he wasn't entranced by those eyes at all. God no.  _Pfft_. How  _absurd_. "I wanted to be  _mad_  at those kids, to go beat them up and make them sorry for saying all that. But I didn't. I  _laughed_  at it. I laughed because they were  _right_. Cruel, but right. I had tried to kill myself. But I betrayed  _myself_  when I laughed like that, because it wasn't funny. It was serious and thought-out and painful."

Something tugged on Loki's heart. He knew how it felt, to be around people who laughed at your pain. Most of the time, they did so unwittingly, but it still heart straight to the core. Loki remembered, time and again, listening to his blissfully ignorant friends make jokes about self-harm. He hadn't laughed. He hadn't pretended to be amused. But he hadn't spoken up either, and some part of him felt as if he had been a coward not to. Hadn't he had the right to be offended and hurt? Hadn't he had the right to bitch them all out for being heartless cunts?  _Yes_. So, why hadn't he? Loki was not one to back down from confrontation, even if it meant getting his ass kicked. There was no explanation, except for  _shame_. Secretive shame.

"Did you ever tell any of your friends what had happened?" Loki lay back on the couch, stretching out his feet and hooking one bony ankle over Anthony's thigh. A soft smile play with the other boy's lips. But he looked surprised by the question.

" _What_  friends." He scoffed. "People like me don't ever have real friends." He shrugged, eyes narrowing and staring down at his coffee. Loki wasn't sure if he should be offended, because, he wasn't sure if Anthony considered him a friend or not. Did he? Were they friends? Hell, did he even  _want_  to be friends with Stark?

"People like you are wise enough to learn the difference. You  _can_  have real friends." He shrugged, not really having any room to talk because - _ahem_ \- where were all his ' _real_ ' friends at? Oh wait, he didn't have any.

Stark raised a skeptical eyebrow. "Really? How? All anyone ever wants from me is money and free booze. Which, in case you didn't know, flows like a river when a bartender sees my face." He sighed, running a hand back through his wet hair. "I guess that sounds cynical, but I learned that lesson when I was very young. I don't want to learn it again." His eyes were dark with bad memories. It seemed they both had some past issues they hadn't quite dealt with, at least not effectively.

Loki sighed, laying his head back on the couch arm. Why was life so hard on the young and ambitious? Why does it always steal the most vibrant dreams and the brightest personalities? He would bet good money that Stark had once been a beautiful,  _happy_  boy. His insane humor proved that without a doubt. But there was a sardonic strain to that humor and a darkness to that gleam in his eye that told Loki there was a lot more than he could see on the surface. Stark was like an iceberg, and he was just seeing the tip that ripped through the glass surface of the seas surrounding him. If he wasn't careful, he might hit the hidden edges beneath the waters, and end up sinking to the depths. If Loki wasn't careful, he might get hurt. If Loki wasn't  _careful_...he might actually start to like Stark.

When he looked up from his reverie, Stark was curled up in a ball at the end of the couch, one hand curled around Loki's lean foot like it was a teddy bear. The soft snoring was endearing in comparison to Thor's lumberjack snoring that he had been forced to live with for the first,  _long_  decade of his life. Anthony's pug nose twitched, his fingers hugging Loki's ankle tighter. His brown curls tumbled against the cushion prettily, making him seem angelic. A frown drew itself on Loki's face, Stark  _didn't_  deserve his father's verbal abuse. Much like he hadn't deserved his own father's abuses. Maybe it was that, that seemed to draw them together like _magnets_.

Loki sighed and lay his head back again, not fighting the sleep when it pushed his eyelids closed gently, slowly. Sleep covered him like a warm blanket, wrapping him in dreams and happier thoughts then those that troubled him in the form of a young man cuddling his foot.

* * *

"Loki?" Tony whispered, cautiously squatting beside the sleeping boy. His hair was tangled about his face in a thick black spider-web that Tony desperately wanted to move. He was inordinately curious about Loki's angular face and what it looked like when he slept. "Lo-Lo?" He sang softly, making sure the teen was very asleep before he snuck out to get them breakfast. He felt it was only right, considering he had totally  _bombed_  the other boy's night by showing up at his dorm door sobbing his lungs up.

Satisfied that Loki was indeed asleep for another ten minutes at least, he slipped his shoes on and tip-toed out the door like a pro. Hey, he had been doing this since he was  _ten_ , for Christ's sake. Starbucks was just around the corner, but it was a fucking beautiful morning- or maybe spending the night with Loki made things look fucking  _better_ \- and the air felt good in his weary lungs. His body felt used and abused, as one always felt after a really hard cry. The crisp morning cleared all the negative thoughts out of his mind, even if the emotions still lingered dangerously. He felt like they were eyeing him like muggers hiding in the alleys of any big city. But it was day time, muggers came out at night, right? He was safe until the sun went down.

Nevertheless, Tony has always attracted the predators that didn't quite play by the rules, and soon the thoughts were assaulting him like he was their favorite brand of  _carcass_. His father's words played through his mind, and he cringed when he remembered the sorrowful look on Loki's face last night. He had been so understanding, and kind. And he swore the boy had reacted when he started talking about friends. Were they friends? Was it plausible that the teenager was willing to befriend him? After all the weeks he had been begging and pleading and dying of curiosity, would the teenager finally give in? Tony's mood lightened a little at the notion.

He was back at the dorm room almost too soon. He really hated dorms. He felt like they were the public bathrooms of housing. Kind of taken care of in a half-ass, who-the-fuck-really-cares way. Not really clean (not like his was, but he had a  _maid_ , for fuck's sake). And everyone living here had a kind of loud, intense sound streaming from their rooms in some form or another. Of course, there was also the matter of roommates, and Tony did  _not_  do roommates. He and Howard had agreed it better that he live on his own instead of costing them far more by whatever damage he would end up doing with another person around to torment.

Loki was snoring like a kitten on the couch, one arm hanging off the edge, the other tangled in his hair. He looked impossibly sweet, Tony felt he was from some other, better world than earth. It couldn't be possible that such a being existed. And where were all these warm, cuddly feelings coming from? He had woken up with the kid's foot in his face- which,  _no_ , he hadn't really been as upset as he should have by that- and here he was cooing over how cute he was! What was  _wrong_ with him? He was Tony Stark, playboy extraordinaire. And Loki was  _not_  a platinum blonde with a great rack.

" _Mmmmfff_." Loki stretched, body twisting and arms and legs reaching for  _miles_. Tony bit his lip to keep himself in line. He was totally in control of himself. Loki was a dude. A pretty dude...but  _no_. He was  _straight_.  _Maybe_. Damn. "Enjoying the view, Anthony?" Loki murmured, casting a sleepy green glare at the engineer.

Tony grinned. "Just waiting for you to awake, Sleeping Beauty. Want some coffee? And I got scones or some shit from Starbucks." He winked.

Loki groaned, burying his face in his arms as if Tony had suggested they walk to fucking Nebraska. " _Staaaaark_." Loki whined. "You're making me  _fat_." He pouted, glaring at Tony under a bushy mess of black curls.

Tony almost awwed. Those curls. He looked so adorable. And he was pouting. Seriously, Loki, what are you trying to do to Tony's heart here? " _Yeah_ , Loki, you're _huge_." He rolled his eyes. "If you gained ten pounds, I could still pick you up and throw you across the room." He scoffed.

Loki's serpentine green eyes narrowed. "I'd like to see you  _try_." He dared, his eyes just as challenging as they could humanly be. And Tony  _never_  backs down from a challenge.

He was across the room and had Loki draped in his arms before Loki had time to react. It was actually a little thrilling to hold the chilly, squirming teenager so close. He smelled of mint and evergreens so strongly it made Tony a little heady. His hair was feather-soft against his arm and even  _darker_  this close, so that it looked like Loki had spilled ink into his thick curls.

" _Anthony_! Put me down this  _instant_!" Loki squeaked, his nails digging into Tony's back in feline terror.

"Hush. I won't drop you, kitty-cat." He giggled at the violent glare Loki gave him for the nickname. "Besides, I haven't thrown you across the room... _yet_." He backed away from the couch, the lithe teenager still clinging to him like he was going to fall ten stories instead of a few measly feet if Tony dropped him.

"Stark, don't you  _dare_. I will cut off something you  _love_." He threatened, venom dripping in his words.

Normally, that would have merely egged Tony on. But, he was in a gracious mood considering how kind Loki had been the previous night. So, he feigned dropping the scared teenager- getting what would probably be  _holes_  in his back from those damn, sharp nails- then gently set him on his feet. Loki scowled, straightening his ruffled clothes, which were still wrinkly from spending the night fully dressed.

"I  _hate_  you." Loki growled, sounding like a bear. He  _obviously_  wasn't a morning person.

Tony grinned. "Sure ya do. I brought you breakfast. It's against the law to hate someone who brings you breakfast." But, his entreaties were ignored. This was Loki. Laws? What laws?

He got a narrow glare for his troubles. To be fair, Tony was trying to be loveable. He just wasnt used to the capricious teenager's mood swings, nor was he capable of anticipating and preparing himself for them. But, who could? The boy went from sunshine to dark as death in .05 seconds, and Tony just couldn't keep up. He made it his new goal in life to find out just what made Loki Odinson tick.

They were standing far too close for comfort, and the heat trickling across Tony's skin like raindrops was almost too much to handle. Those green eyes were smoldering and god damn it, everything was just too hot. He was starting to feel that prickly beginning of sweat on his forehead and neck. Just one step and he could kiss that boy. It was the first time he had ever thought that about another of the same sex. Really, he wasn't gay. Maybe they were both just too vulnerable, maybe-

"Loki, you know- Tony?" Steve burst through the door, making Tony jolt like he had been shocked by lightning. "What are you doing here?" The confusion on the quarterbacks face was priceless.

"Good morning, Steve." Loki purred civilly, flashing Tony a huge grin. Yes, Loki, you've got 'Anthony' in an awkward situation. You're so clever to live with Steve for just such occasions.

Tony rolled his eyes. "I brought Loki breakfast. Figured maybe he'd hate me a little less for it." He grinned as he watched Loki sniff his coffee cautiously.

His green eyes snapped to Tony's. "Who told you what coffee I like?" He demanded, his eyes flashing. He really didn't like people talking about him behind his back. Tony filed that away for future reference.

"No one." He shrugged. "I just figured you liked one of those girly latte thingies." He smiled at the dark scowl he got in reply. "So, whatcha been up to, Stevie?" He purposely called him this because Rodgers had once mentioned it made him sound like a flaming homosexual. He blushed every time he called him that sense.

"Uh. Nothing. Did you just get here?" His blue eyes were judgmental. He could tell Tony was lying. Damn it.

"Oh my god. Steve, he spent the night." Loki rolled his eyes, exasperated. "And no, we aren't having sex. Nor are we dating. He came over, we watched TV. We both fell asleep because late night TV is that boring. Now stop asking stupid, convoluted questions." He growled. Yep. Definitely not a morning person.

Tony flashed a million-dollar smile at Steve that would make him second-guess Loki's claim against sex. What did Tony care? He already had a reputation. And Steve's mind always went straight to the gutter when it came to his salacious friend. Might as well have fun with it. "So, where were you all night, Steve?" Tony bit into a scone. Mmm. This was practically a sin. "Playing with your girlfriend? I'm sure it was all pure and chaste." Tony snorted.

Steve huffed, face going cherry red. Loki snickered. "I- I was with the guys." Steve raised his chin proudly.

"Mmhmm. Okay, Stevie. This is a great time to prove you're straight, y'know. Brag about all that action I know you got last night. It'll clear your name." He teased, Loki now full-on laughing beside him.

"Shut up, Stark. There's only one person who needs to know I'm straight. And she knows, trust me." Steve growled. Then turned on his heel and stomped into his room. The door banged against it's frame loudly, making Loki and Tony giggle like children.

Fact #4: Loki enjoys pushing people's buttons. Maybe even more than he enjoys avoiding their presence. It's honestly the only reason he even has a semblance of a social life.

Tony studied Loki for a moment, watching the way he picked at his food like he would suddenly put on three hundred pounds if he ate like a normal person- not that Tony could even claim to eat like someone remotely normal. It almost worried Tony. The boy had major self-esteem issues. He wanted to fix that. Loki was gorgeous, someone needed to remind him of that. But Tony had the feeling Loki wouldn't take to kindly to it here and now. It burned on his tongue, but he stifled it, swallowing it down with the coffee.

"You're gawking, Stark." Loki admonished, turning his eyes on full power. Stark swallowed his heart, which had leaped into his throat.

"Does that bother you, your highness?" He purred, leaning closer to the glaring teen.

"What if it does?" He challenged. And, damn, this kid just loved to search for the boundaries, he just didn't realize yet that Tony didn't really have any.

"Then I'll back off and you'll never find me staring at your gorgeous ass again." Oops.

Loki's eyebrows lifted. "I was never particularly fond of my ass, but I suppose you like it enough for the both of us, hmm?" Something cynical reached his eyes. "Do you think I'm gay, Stark?" Damn. Back to Stark. Although, he had never really committed to Tony's first name.

Tony sighed. "I don't know. Hell, right now, I don't even know what my orientation is." Oops. Time for his meds, he was talking way too freely, saying everything that popped into his beehive of a brain. It wasn't siphoning his thoughts correctly.

Loki looked shocked. "Really? With all those sluts you've slept with? I'd think you'd have plenty of experience to base your decision on." he murmured, toying with his food again.

Tony eyed him. "So, you believe the rumors, eh?" He sighed. He had always hated the public perception of his spiral into full-on degeneration. Destructive behaviors existed in many shapes and sizes, why was sex the one that everyone always zeroed in on? Couldn't they bitch and moan about his drinking problem, or that time he had tried heroin, or  _anything_  besides how many times he had sex a week?

Loki looked at him guiltily. "Every friend I has talk about how much of an ingrate you are for having sex almost nightly." He shrugged. "I try to tune it out." He cringed.

Tony laughed. "You and me both. But no, I don't have sex nightly. Most of the time I'm in my fucking lab." He scoffed. "People always assume the worst." He scowled at his coffee. "You know, Loki, being famous certainly has its cons. One being that people are always consumed with your life, and if you make one mistake, they except you to repeat it and make more. They expect drama and pain and misery, because that's what  _sells_. Reporting that I'm spending a night up to my ears in grease and my tools won't garner half the attention that me spending a night in Vegas with a pretty girl on my arm will."

Loki frowned. "I know. You do realize that you can't  _do_  anything in Vegas. You're too young." He pointed out, ever the master of details.

Tony laughed, like, hard, hysterical laughter. "Babe, I'm  _Tony Stark_. I challenge you to find a bartender who  _won't_  serve to me, or a casino that  _won't_  let me gamble." He smiled, a fake, almost painful smile. No one was looking out for Tony, not even he himself. It was just a matter of time until he slipped over the edge, and _no one would notice_.

Loki's mouth twisted in what looked like a pained expression. "That's awful. People serve to an underage kid, they should go to jail." He criticized.

Tony shrugged. "There are other ways to get booze. I've tried hard to drown my demons, Loki. But they know how to swim. And no bartender can fix that."

The look Loki gave him would have broken a weaker man.

* * *

Loki felt like a zombie. Just  _moving_  took concerted effort. And having Tony next to him, fawning over him and fussing like an old woman was not helping. At all. It did, however, make him feel pretty certain he had just enough energy to murder the man before he became catatonic. His lips twisted into a snarl.

"I mean, Steve, come on. How was I supposed to know you two lived together. You never mentioned it. And we're friends,  _only_ , so it's not like you walked in on me humping him," And who had said he would  _bottom_ , for Christ's sake.  ** _Wait_**. "Or anything awkward like that. And even if you had, don't you think this is a bit of an overreaction? I mean-"

"Anthony, would you kindly  _SHUT UP_?" He snapped, his mouth moving far faster than his brain could even conceive of moving. God. Sleep was  _necessary_  for Loki. It just was. No ifs, ands, or buts.

"No.  _That_  was an overreaction." Steve murmured. Loki shot him a glare that really should have turned him to  _blessedly_  silent ash.

 _Ow_. He was starting to get a migraine. Fantastic.

Stark was looking at him with worry lacing the perfect, crinkly lines around his eyes. Brown eyes. Like molten chocolate. Cue mental sigh. "Loki, really, you should take the day off. What if you're getting sick?" He shifted his backpack to his other shoulder. Loki totally didn't notice the way his muscles rippled. Totally didn't.

"I'm not-  _achoo!_ -  ** _ugh_**." He glared blearily at the  _I-fucking-told-you-so_  look on Stark's face. He wondered idly if it would hurt him or Stark more to punch the cocky engineer.

"Yeah, you two have some heart-to-heart. I'm going to class." Oh  _yeah_ , Steve, because their 'heart-to-hearts'  _always_  start with glares and nagging.

...well, maybe that wasn't  _entirely_  false...

Stark glared at him for Loki. Because Loki truly didn't have the energy. Hazy, he leaned against Anthony's arm. The shock in the other boy was amusing, but Loki was too tired to really care at this point. "Would caffeine help?" He whined, consulting the only person he knew who actually drank coffee in large quantities. Or maybe it was just that Anthony drank enough caffeine to kill a large horse that made him consult him.

Stark laughed. "I don't think so. You need to go home, Loki. You  _can_  miss one day of classes, I promise." He allowed Loki to rub his disgustingly snotty nose on his sleeve. Aw. Ew.

"Take me home, Anthony." He whimpered, completely ignoring the boy's reaction to his perhaps ill-considered use of wording and dropping his backpack and sinking to the ground. Everything was spinny. "I'm dizzy." He murmured.

"Loki!" Odin's voice rang across the campus.

For once, Loki seriously considered cursing. Like,  _out loud_. Yep, he needed to sleep,  _badly_. Anthony's hand on his shoulder tensed along with Loki's whole body like it was just an extension of Loki. "Uh." The boy looked frantic, completely uncertain of what to do.

"It's alright. Go to class, darling." He murmured, allowing Stark to haul him back to his feet.

His stomach flipped and the world spun. Fabulous.

Stark gave him one last concerned look, then reluctantly did as he was told. That was the fantastic thing about Anthony, he always followed orders like a lost puppy. Whatever Loki said was taken as law. It was nice to be in charge of at least one relationship for once. Speaking of which...

"Hello, Odin." He gingerly picked up his too-heavy backpack. What was even in this thing? Gods.

"Son. Where's your brother?" He demanded, completely skipping over the whole ' _How've you been, son?_ ' part. Loki rolled his eyes and sighed as if this was just so tedious even talking to the man.

"Well, since you came during class time, I'd assume he's  _in_   _class_." Loki replied wearily. At least he sounded more condescending than exhausted.

"You might want to watch your  _tone_ , Loki." Odin snarled.

"How about you go find your  _perfect_  angel and leave me the hell alone."  _Oooh_. Loki used a  _bad_  word. This was serious.

Odin scowled at him darkly. "You need an attitude adjustment, boy." And if that didn't irk Loki, nothing did. He hated being referred to as a ' _boy_ '. He was not a little boy any longer. Nor had he been for some time now.

"I don't care. I don't want you around me, Odin. I don't know where Thor is. Go find him yourself. When and if you ever want to have a relationship, then maybe I'll consider being anything less than the same level of a jackass as you are." Another bad word, he was on a  _roll_  today. Seriously, he  _must_  be ill. Words like these just did not come out of his mouth.

Odin was turning red. Never something that bode well.  _Never_. "Loki, I am losing my patience with your rebellious, insolent attitude quickly. I haven't done anything wrong to you. Never." He snapped, sounding like a bulldog. "Now, perhaps you'd like to rephrase your response." He put his hands on his hips and glared at Loki with his one eye and his eye patch. And  _yes_ , for the record, Loki felt that thing glared just as much as his eye. It was  _freaky_.

But instead of complying, as he normally would have, Loki straightened his back and looked directly into Odin's eye. "No. I wouldn't. And for the record, you've wronged me plenty of times, Odin. And I won't forgive you until you recognize that fact. You don't deserve my honor or respect, and you won't get it. I will not allow you to bully me into submission just because you have an ego and too much pride for your own good." Loki spouted. What was wrong with him? Why couldn't he just be  _quiet_ , for once in his life? More drama.  _Ugh_.

"Loki!" The sharp tone of Odin's grating voice made Loki's brain light on fire. "That is  _enough_. I am your father, whether you like that fact or not. And whether you respect and honor me or not, you will act as though you do in my presence. Is that understood?" Like, oh yeah, Odin, he's gonna back down  _now_. -snort-

"I will do what I want. Is  _that_  understood, Odin?" He snarled, sounding feral and wild and out of control. And maybe he was. Maybe he had become a little unhinged, somewhere along the way. It wasn't inconceivable.

Odin slammed one stubby finger against his chest. Loki barely caught himself before he went sprawling. The man was twice his size. "You will clean up your act, Loki Odinson, or I'll clean it up  _for_  you." Odin warned, then brushed past him to go find his darling Thor.

Loki seethed quietly to himself for a moment, realizing he was late for class and might as well not even go. Pulling out his phone, he texted Thor to warn him Odin might be coming barreling through the classroom door at any moment. Then he sighed, ran his hand back through his hair, and started trudging home. He needed a mug of hot chocolate piled high with marshmallows and he needed his bed.  _Now_.

* * *

When Tony got out of class, he headed straight for the lab. But not the lab here, oh  _no_. That shit wasn't nearly high-tech enough. He went to his father's lab. Because, yeah, he's a defiant ass and he needs his high-tech shit when he's upset and his mind is whirring all wrong. And this type of whirring was even  _worse_  than the normal, every-day, driving-him-nuts whirring.

The lab his father had was filled to the brim with all kinds of cool stuff one would find in an over-priced man-cave. Mostly because, well, that's what it was. Not that his dad was even nearly as genius as he was when it came to inventing, and really, the man was hardly down here anymore. It filled the entire basement level of the Stark mansion. Different posters from many eras hung on the wall, including some of Tony's favorite band posters. He ran a hand along them as he moseyed down the hallway to the main event. In the machine-clogged, grease-stained, smoke-yellowed (yes, he had blown things up in here many times) room, Tony found a _haven_. There was even an espresso machine he had demanded Howard install a few years ago.

Then...his phone rang. Obadiah. Plus, he had a few texts. He considered ignoring the call for the texts, but eventually decided Obie had done nothing against him... _yet_. And answered. "'Sup, Stane?" He answered, kicking a few different machines to life and contemplating how sadly inadequate they were. He needed to create something that responded to voice and touch, without all this clunky machinery that he had to manually work himself.

"Hi, Tony. Are you at the mansion?" There was an odd, manipulative tone to Obie's voice. Tony was immediately on guard.

"Uh. Yeah.  _Why_?" Tony tinkered with the espresso machine, shooing gathering dust from the metal.

"Well, there's been a huge fire on the college campus. They're busing people to the hospital now. It's on TV." Obie informed him.

Tony dropped the phone and ran for the TV. He turned it on to the news and felt his heart  _drop_. Loki and Steve's dorm was one of the buildings on fire. He was pretty sure Barton was bunking down there too.

He was in his father's fastest car and headed toward campus before he could process a single thought. If something happened to Loki...his heart was pumping too ** _fast_**.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading, loves!! 
> 
> Hope you all have a fabulous weekend!! <3
> 
> ~xoxox, Rayn


	7. Puzzle Pieces

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Smoke. Pain. A earth-shattering secret. Loki's world is ending and all he wants is to get drunk with one very handsome engineer.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> What's this? A chapter not named after a song? Whaaaat?  
> Do enjoy, lovies!  
> Please review, I adore hearing your thoughts on the story, the world, your lives, hell, anything you guys want to say will be received with adoration ;).  
> Love you allllll.   
> Thanks for reading!
> 
> This is long, and very angsty. So, um, tissues may be necessary.  
> ~xoxox, Rayn

Loki woke up coughing and disoriented. He was sweating and the air was too thick to breathe. What the...

 _Smoke_.

He sat up, eyes wild and heart hammering in his chest. Smoke clogged the air, clouding his vision and  _suffocating_  him. The room was already a  _sauna_. Sirens wailed in the distance. The building creaked and groaned loudly around him, the fire was already raging. He was up and out of the bed in a split second. In passing, he grabbed a scarf off his desk and tied it around his mouth and nose. He and Steve nearly collided when he burst through his door and almost face-first into Steve's chest. Their eyes met, and  _why_  was the big quarterback still here? He must have overslept.

They sprinted for the door, they had to get out of here.  _Now_. Steve grabbed the doorknob then jerked his hand back with a loud curse. The door knob was hot. That meant fire had already taken over the hallway. Loki felt like his heart was going to  _explode_  from the adrenaline racking his body. They were three stories up.  _How were they going to get out now_?! Hysteria was about to set in. Steve grabbed his hand. It forced him to calm down and think. He couldn't go insane just yet. Wits about him. That was the most important thing to remember. Stay calm. Well, as calm as one can be when trapped in a burning dorm building.

"What do we do?" He asked, his blue eyes wide and pupils dilated with fear. It was a little horrifying to see big, strong Steve scared.

Loki almost screamed. He couldn't handle this. "We have to break the door down and take our chances, I guess." His voice was rough from the havoc the smoke was wreaking on his throat. It was much like that time he had tried smoking, only a  _thousand_  times worse.

Steve nodded. "Go over there. I'll do it." He hacked, coughing hard and long. Gods.

Loki raced to hide behind the corner. This was the most awful thing he had ever experienced. A loud bang slammed against his eardrums. " _Fuck_." He murmured, feeling the blast of heat from the fire rushing in to claim what little oxygen was left in the room. The air felt forcibly sucked from his lungs, leaving him to cough up his windpipe.

" _C'mon, Loki_!" Steve called. Loki forced his petrified limbs to move.

_Keep moving. You gotta get out of here._

They ran down the hallway, slamming on the breaks at the stairway. It was being  _eaten_  by flames. The big picture window above the stairs had blown out, and tendrils of the fire was thrashing at the oxygen from outside. Loki could barely breathe through the heat and billowing smoke. He was shaking from the adrenaline and hammering pulse beating against his veins. The stairs were the  _only_  way out. He and Steve looked at each other, shrugging. It was either chance getting burned or die for sure.

Loki went first, tripping and stumbling around the flames. He felt something hot and angry bite into his arm, but he was racing downward too fast to care. Finally at the ground level, he jumped off the third stair and went running, hearing Steve behind him like a locomotive. The lobby was bright orange and red with flames, throwing demonic shadows everywhere. Loki could barely concentrate on how to get out of here. Everything was distorted by panic and shadows and  _fire_. The heat scorched his skin painfully, and his arm was still screaming at him in agony. But all Loki could even consider was the door, getting out of here,  _surviving_.

Sprinting through the flames was excruciating and by the time he got out the door, he felt like he was being _eaten alive_  by fire. Steve tackled him to the ground, rubbing his arm and rolling him back and forth. Someone was  _screaming_. Like an anguished,  _blood-curdling_  scream.

It was  _him_.

* * *

Tony sped towards the college, his radio blasting. He didn't even hear it, his heart was beating too loudly. He could see big black clouds of smoke billowing in the wind above the campus. The tires screamed as he hit the breaks outside the caution tape. The car left running, he bolted under the tape, looking wildly around for Loki or Thor or someone he god damn knew. Ambulances were everywhere, some with names of counties he had never even heard of. But the building,  _fuck_. The building looked like a monster, flames coming out of at least half the windows and the fire raging almost audibly. That big window above the staircase to Loki's room was blown out too, fires coming out of it like living creatures. His heart stopped.

Firemen were running, policemen were trying to keep people in order; those who needed help their only concern. The place was a fucking mad house. He couldn't find anyone. The more time that went on, the closer he was to having a fucking panic attack.

_Where._

_Was._

_Loki._

Then he saw Thor.  _Thor_. He had never been so happy to see motherfucking Thor. " _THOR_!" He yelled, praying to be heard above the whirling chaos. The man turned, blue eyes filled to the brim with worry.

 _Shit_.

"Anthony! Have you seen my brother?" The man ran to him, grabbing his shoulders so tightly Tony thought for a pain-filled moment that he might crush him.

Then someone screamed, high and full of  _pain._  Thor's head whipped around, looking for the source of the blood-boiling sound. Tony saw them first.

He ripped out of Thor's grip and started racing towards the dorms before he could fully process what he was doing. Loki was on fire and Steve was practically beating him to put it out. He had his jacket off and was pressing it down on Loki's arm the second he skidded to his knees beside them. Both boys had black faces and tears were streaming from under Loki's squeezed shut eyelids.

EMTs were running their way and Tony was soon shoved out of the way by the nurses and guys with a gurney. Thor was holding Loki's hand although the teenager had stopped screaming only to whimper and cry and look around with pain-dulled green eyes that made Tony want to puke. As the gurney started to wheel away, Tony realized Loki was looking at him. Tears still tracking pretty pale lines down his grim-covered face. After he was loaded into an ambulance, Tony bent over and gave up his lunch to the rose bushes that were now covered in ash and falling embers from the fire still raging on the campus.

Steve's hand rubbed his back, and the big quarterback sunk to the ground with him. "Are you okay?" He asked Tony. Fuck, shouldn't this be the other way around?

Tony nodded numbly. "You?" He gave the big blonde a once-over. No burned skin, no scorched clothing, no eyebrows.

"Yep, I'm alright. Loki really got the worst, it appears. Do you know how all this got started?" Steve asked the one logical question that Tony hadn't even considered.

He looked around, assessing the fire and the buildings being consumed relentlessly. It was gold, and orange, and crimson, and cherry. It danced like it was alive. It was beautiful and ugly. He hated it and it awed him. He had always had this relationship with fire. Chemical burns lined his arms and hands, scarring his tan skin with pale lines and blotches and designs. There was a story for each discoloration.

"I bet it was some idiot in the lab. The building the lab is in is almost gone." His eyes locked on the shuddering building that was starting to concave. Firemen kept people well away from it, but spectators did  _love_  a show.

Steve nodded, not even looking at the fire anymore. "Where were you?" There was that ever-present hint of suspicion in his voice that Tony had come to abhor. Couldn't anyone look at him without seeing  _addict_? Or  _drunk_? Or  _druggie_?

Tony sighed, flopping back on the grass with the huff of breath. He could smell the fragrant coffee he had been drinking not even an hour ago tint the air around his face. It was quickly replaced by the odor of burning everything. "My da- Howard's lab. I needed some big boy toys. The kind the college can't afford." He shrugged, dragging his shoulders painfully on the hard ground beneath him. Funny how pain always seemed to make him feel better. Maybe that's why he never wore protective gloves or goggles in the lab when things were certain to blow up. Maybe that's why he only played with things that blew up when he was upset.

Steve regarded him with narrow blue eyes. "Let's go. I want to see if everyone else is okay." He stood, extending a hand down to Tony.

He just stared up at the gentle giant blankly.  _Everyone else_. People that Steve cared about, but Tony's only concern was on his way to the hospital right now. Damn, he could use something very,  _very_  strong to drink right now. Instead, he took Steve's hand and ignored his worried gaze. He could deal with his own issues later. Right now, he needed to do what he could to help Steve, then check in with Thor to make sure Loki was okay.

On the other hand, he could ditch the captain of the football team and go get drunk. Then, in the morning, he could check on Loki. Hmm. Then Steve looked at him with those big, blue, sad eyes surrounded by smut and smelling like smoke and  _fuck_. He couldn't leave now. God damn, he was a sucker for pretty eyes.

* * *

Loki woke up and almost screamed. The light was  _bright_. Where was he? The  _SUN_?

"Brother?" Thor's soft voice had dialed down from god-of-thunder pitch to church mouse. It was a  _blessed_  improvement.

Loki groaned.  _Everything_  hurt. His arm  _really_  hurt. Like, white-hot sparks behind his eyelids and hot fire-pokers sticking deep into his skin and burrowing into his bone pain. And- oh,  _ow_ \- moving intensified that about a thousand times over. He had to bite down on his lip-  _ew_ , was that  _blood_?- to keep from screaming. Again. If he remembered correctly. And if he wasn't mistaken, he was so drugged he could be hallucinating this whole thing.

"Loki? Are you okay?" Okay, he probably needed to at least  _pretend_  to recognize Thor or the boy might lose his mind with worry. He cracked one eye open, then groaned again. He wondered how painful it would be to smother himself with a pillow.

"Thor, what are you doing?" A sleepy female voice murmured. Frigga. Oh, thank  _god_. His mommy was here.

"Momma?" Loki croaked, slitting his eyes open just enough to make out a blurry image of his beautiful, golden-haired mother.

"Shh, darling. Do you want some water? Just nod or shake your head, sweetie." She leaned over him, brushing his sweaty-  _disgusting_ \- bangs off his forehead and sending Thor off to get some ice. When he nodded, a cool cup was pressed against his lips and he felt cool liquid rush down his scratchy throat to rest like winter in his empty stomach. "You're in the hospital. Do you remember what happened?" The bed dipped slightly when she sat at the edge and looked down at him with a mother's loving concern.

"Yeah." Ew. His voice sounded awful. So much for silky smooth. "I remember the fire. I don't really remember much after Steve tackled me." He raised his uninjured hand to touch his throat. God, how much smoke had he inhaled? He sounded like a century-long smoker. Or worse.

"Your arm was burned pretty badly, sweetheart. And you passed out from the pain." Okay, if he hadn't been in an  _excruciating_  amount of pain, that might've been embarrassing. "And you also have a slight concussion. The doctors want to keep you here for the night, and maybe tomorrow. But they say you'll be alright. No skin graphs. Just lots of rest." She smiled and pressed a wonderfully cool hand to his cheek.

He nodded, happy that the burns weren't too bad. Apparently, he was  _extremely_  aware of pain, because his arm felt like he would need skin graphs for miles. And new bone marrow too.  _Ow_.

"You need to get some rest, darling. I'll be here when you wake up." She helped him nestle under the hospital blankets comfortably- well, as comfortably as one could be with an arm that screamed agony- and shushed Thor when he came soldiering in. Odin had taught that boy well.

Loki smirked at his brother sleepily and sent him a hazy green-eyed wink, then drifted off to sleep on waves of morphine.

* * *

Tony glared at the nurse. " _Look_ , lady. I don't want to  _see_  him. I just want to know if he's  _okay_." It was taking way too much energy to explain this. He was hungover. Why hadn't he just  _called_ , for fuck's sake?

"Stark?" A thunderous voice exclaimed delightedly behind him.

Shit. Fuck. Damn. He could not deal with Thor's over-flowing cheer today.

"Hiya, big guy." He smiled, albeit, a very shaky, sunglassed smile. Yes, he was wearing shades. Inside. Because god damn were lights  _painful_. "How's Loki?" He shoved his hands in his pockets and focused on not swaying. Was he still drunk? Maybe a  _little_.

Thor's smile dulled. "He's alright. Mostly he makes me stay out here because he says my voice is too loud. Would you like to see -"

"No.  _No_.  ** _No_**." Tony shook his head too fast and nearly flinched at the white-hot pain that exploded behind his eyes.  _Oof_. "I just wanted to make sure he was okay. You know, no amputated appendages and all that jazz." He shrugged, kind of wondering what had possessed him to come to the fucking hospital in the first place. That's what  _cell phones_  are for,  _duh_.

Thor frowned. "He would probably like to see you. You have a nice voice, or so he thinks." A grin started to develop on the neanderthal's face. "Not to mention, I'm sure my mother would like to meet you."

 _Whoa_. Parents? Tony didn't do parents. "Uh. You know, I really don't think that'd be a good idea, Thor." Couldn't he see Tony was dealing with the hangover of a lifetime, here? C'mon, Thor, you've been drunk before.

Then he did what he had seen and fallen prey to all too many times in his short life. Thor morphed into a sad puppy dog before his fucking eyes. " _Please_ , Tony? He really needs someone to cheer him up." The blonde mountain begged. Bitterly, Tony realized he had the eyes of a fucking golden retriever. A  _sad_  golden retriever, nonetheless.

" _Fine_." He growled, wishing for all the world it didn't hurt like a bullet-to-the-head to grit his teeth.

He let Thor lead him towards Loki's room, feeling his skin crawl. He remembered the last time he had been here. Fourteen years old, waking up and expecting death only to find a bright, white, cold hospital instead. Failure, again. He shook his head, now was not the time to relive childhood trauma. It would be filed away for later, when he could  _properly_  torture himself about his past mistakes.

"Loki, you have a visitor!" Loki flinched in unison with Tony at the sheer decibel of Thor's joy. "Tony's here."

Shock registered in emerald eyes that- thank  _god_ \- were not glazed over by pain. Tony wasn't sure his heart could have endured that again. Or his already unhappy stomach, for that matter. " _Stark_. Hello." His voice was scratchy and completely wasted from the smoke.

"Hi." He waved awkwardly, noticing the woman by Loki's bed, who was smiling at him with eyes all too wise for his comfort. She had a pretty face, and blue eyes that were a gentle version of Thor's. Huh. "I'm Tony." He held out a hand to shake her's. Her grip was firm, but her skin soft. She smelled like honeysuckle. Just like his mother had the last time he hugged her. The memory had the room spinning, but he stayed upright.

"I believe my husband works with your...father?" She questioned, smiling pleasantly.

He smiled stiffly. "There are few people who  _don't_  work with my father, ma'am." Loki's green eyes flickered fleetingly. He shifted uncomfortably. "I really just came to make sure Loki was okay. I wasn't intending to intrude. I'm sure you need your sleep." Okay, time to leave.  _Now_. And  _god help_  Thor if he got in his way or-

"Wait, Stark. Mother, Thor, could you give us a moment." And god damn, Tony was  _scared_  of that tone. Loki's voice was even more threatening when it was rough and deep.

Thor and Frigga obediently vacated the room. Leaving Tony standing awkwardly at the end of the bed, closer to the door really, and fidgeting like a crack addict. He looked  _anywhere_  but at Loki. Anywhere. Because, if there was one time when all of Tony's sparkling, gilded charm abandoned him, it was when he was with Loki. The boy was his  _kryptonite_.

"Are you going to look at me? I'm sure the furnishings aren't  _nearly_  as interesting a view." Loki's voice was laced with contemptuous amusement. Tony felt heat rush to his cheeks. "Why are you  _really_  here?" His shrewdness was a little irritating sometimes, but Tony was actually pretty sure he knew that.

"Like I said, to check up on you. Make sure you were still alive and all." He shrugged, letting his eyes fall to travel across one sprawling leg. One batman-sock-encased toe peeked out from under the sheets. It wasn't easy to stifle the smile that wanted to spread across his face.

"Maybe that's what you  _want_  it to be, but there are such things as phones, Stark." His haughty tone wasn't what irritated Tony, it was his refusal to call him anything but his last name. That fucking name he  _hated_. And Loki  _knew_  it. That cute, uppity little shit.

"I'm hungover, if you must know. Clear thinking isn't really my strong suit right now." He growled, his eyes following the leg up to his hips. Tony could see the thin boy's hip bones protruding even from here. God. Someone give him a sandwich.

Loki was silent-  _what_ , Loki, wordless?- for a few moments. Tony's gaze traveled further, taking in his pale, snowy neck, his inhuman jawline, his bright red lips, his glaring green eyes. "You know, I can see your eyes through those sunglasses." A devilish smirk grew on his face when Tony felt the blush burn his cheeks. But he _refused_  to do anything but smile. If there was one thing Tony would never admit shame for, it was checking out a hot body. And let's just say, no one would  _ever_  call Loki homely.

But, it did clear up matters to Tony. He wasn't here because he was hungover. It was much more than that, although, let's be truthful, that  _had_  certainly attributed to it somewhat. He was here because he actually  _cared_  about how Loki was. Physically as well as mentally. Getting caught on fire isn't something you just smile through. He knew from experience.

"Still gonna use all that convenient alcohol for an excuse?" Tony began to feel a little nauseous, and something changed on Loki's face. "Bathroom's that way." He pointed to a door on the other side of the room.

Tony  _ran_.

* * *

Loki laid back on the bed after Anthony, a bit green after his stint hugging the toilet, had left. Things rambled around in his head that he didn't really want to think about. The primary being: ' _Where's Odin?_ '

Now, normally, Loki didn't really care where his father was or what he was doing or even why he wasn't paying attention to his youngest. The teenager had figured that out pretty early in life, quite frankly. But this was  _different_. Loki had just been in a  _life-or-death_  situation and had the ever-loving  _hell_  burned out of his arm. Nevertheless, Odin had yet to show his face other than the first hour or so he had been conscious, and even that had just been to tell Frigga goodbye. Loki hadn't been quite lucid at that point. Morphine was a  _powerful_  drug.

Thor snuck in, coming to sit beside the bed and study Loki unabashedly. "Can I help you?" Loki snarled, giving his brother a feral, green-eyed glare. He wondered, idly, if this would always be their relationship: acerbic Loki being condescending to bright, innocent Thor? He supposed so.

"I wish I looked like you, sometimes. Girls are always chattering about how beautiful you are." The boy admitted honestly. "You're so unique. It makes me feel so very ordinary."

Loki couldn't keep his surprise off his face. " _What_?" He was dumbfounded, to say the least. There were no girls itching to date him, no comments about his beauty. Wait...was he hallucinating? Was his mind trying to comfort itself during this admittedly traumatic time?

Thor just nodded, pulling his own long blond hair back into a ponytail. "Momma always said you were  _special_. I mean, I know it hurts you how dad treats you. But you're different Loki, while I am nothing more than  _ordinary_ , a reincarnation of my father."

Loki stared in pure, unadulterated shock. He couldn't believe his ears. Really, he didn't  _believe_  he was hearing this. Something was  _wrong_ , they needed to get a doctor in here because Loki was  _finally_  losing his mind. "Thor, are you... _kidding_   _me_?" He could barely spit the words out. "I'm the odd one out. I don't fit! It's not fun being different. It may look like it, but trust me, it's no cake-walk." He sighed. "I always wanted to fit in to the family. To be a little blond-haired, blue-eyed reincarnation of someone. But I'm  _not_. I don't fit into this puzzle." He scrubbed his face with the hand that wasn't aching like it had just been run over by a  _train_.

"Don't say that..." Thor whined, sounding like a kicked puppy. Loki knew it was hard for him to hear that his little brother had never felt he belonged, because all Thor had ever wanted was for Loki to be happy. Just like he was. Even if he did deal with a little bit of envy, which honestly didn't make Loki feel better. It made him feel like he was being  _lied_  to, although his sixth sense screamed that Thor was being truthful and blunt about his feelings.

The door opened and the formerly absent father-figure stepped inside. Really, had anyone in this family heard of knocking, personal space, or privacy? Loki sighed, averting his eyes to the sheet his fingers were toying with. It had always been this way. Loki feeling small and insignificant before his powerful father, fidgeting and acting like he knew he was just an  _insect_  Odin could squash at any time. It had always been there, even in his most defiant moments. Even when he rebelled with all his heart. He still felt so  _small_ , so  _unimportant_ , so  _worthless_. The thoughts raged on, until he finally realized that Thor and Odin were actually speaking, and probably had been for a good five minutes while he dazed out.

"...Doesn't want to." Thor was saying, a stubborn look on his face. Loki really wished he hadn't been daydreaming, and fought the instinct to again blame his attention issues on the morphine.

Odin looked positively stormy.  _Uh oh_. Thor had stood up to their father? Interesting. Of course, the only way Thor would defy Odin's wishes were if it involved one person, and only one person.  _Loki_. Fabulous.

"Who doesn't want to what?" He smiled sweetly at his elder brother, using all that little brother charm that only works if you're Loki and your big brother is Thor.

Thor melted, as customary. Odin, on the other hand, was a different story. "You're going to be living with your brother on campus." The big, eye-patch adorned man informed him.

Oh,  _hell_  no.

" _Pardon_?" His voice was incredulous and bratty and pompous and all those wonderful things Loki tended to be when he was  _royally_  pissed. Mostly because he felt he had license to be a diva after all those  _precious_  childhood experiences. "I will  _not_  be living with Thor. I will have my own dorm room with someone I am not _related_  to as my roommate. You agreed to this a year ago, Odin." The tone in his voice threatened that a helluva  _shit-storm_  was on the horizon if Odin denied him his one great joy in life... _freedom_.

It wasn't that Loki didn't love Thor, or enjoy being in his presence. But Loki is a solitary creature. Thor is  _anything_  but. That tended to interfere at times, especially when the big oaf decided he wanted  _nothing_  more than to be within ten feet of his baby bro  _24/7_. That usually turned Loki into a big, pissy, flustered  _mess_. And really, I think we all know Loki is a mess without any added exacerbation.

"Yes, you are staying with him. Loki, you're going to need help. The  _doctor_  said this would be best." The flinty blue eye glared at him darkly. Oh,  _coldness_? Two could play that game.

"Guess what, Odin. I got a few of your traits, although god knows how. Stubborn pigheadedness and refusal to listen to the wisdom of others. I'll take my chances without nurse Thor." He snarled, his eyes turning into ice-storms. Because when Loki got mad, he swore his core temperature dropped to -30 degrees.

Thor was looking back and forth between them as they argued like they were playing a tennis match. The look on his face clearly stated that he had  _absolutely no_ _idea_  what to do, and for once, Loki was just  _so_  happy his brother had lost capability of speech. If he had opened his big mouth, Loki might have torn out his vocal chords.

"This isn't a  _choice_ , Loki. You're staying with Thor, and that's final." Odin snapped. And really, that was a  _big_  mistake. Nothing was ever final until Loki said so. The boy would argue with a deaf man.

Loki laughed. "I do what I want, old man." He growled, the laughter still ringing through his scratchy voice. Maybe he was getting a little hysterical, because really, there was nothing funny about this situation at all. Or maybe it had simply come to the point where Loki learned it was better to laugh than cry.

"Be  _very_  careful, son. You're treading on thin ice." The threat mingled with Odin's voice was enough to make Loki want to punch someone. Someone with white hair and an eye-patch, who weighed about three times what Loki did.

The teenager let his own voice drop. " _Ice_? I'm the  _king_  of ice, Odin. Don't you know that yet?" He giggled. What was scary about this whole argument was quickly becoming Loki's nonchalance and indifference. The new objective in his drug-addled mind was to irritate Odin till he snapped. Probably not the  _best_  idea considering that when Odin snapped, he tended to lash out with his  _fists_.

The man shook his head, his face growing so red it was almost  _purple_. "I'm  _not_  having this argument with you. Thor will help you move your stuff later tonight." Then he was turning away, turning his back to Loki because he thought he was bed-ridden (and okay, he  _technically_  was). But that was not  _acceptable_  to Loki.

"I will  _not_  be treated like less because I am not your angelic, muscle-bound warrior,  _father_." He snarled, his voice so low it was almost inaudible.

Thor's blue eyes were wide.

Odin turned, his mouth set in a firm line. "And I will not take your disrespect any longer. Thor has done nothing wrong, and neither have I. This is ending  _now_ , Loki. Or there will be  _serious_  repercussions."

Loki laughed, throwing his head back and giggling like Odin had just cracked the joke of the millenium. " _No_! You  _haven't_! You haven't done a thing! And that's the point, Odin! What did I do to make you dislike me so? Is it because I'm not your little replica? Is it because I won't go out and fight in tights over a  _ball_? Is it because I like to cook and read and write instead of play games and wrestle and get dirty?" There was a tight little fist in his chest that was grinding against his lungs painfully. He could barely breathe.  _Red_  was flashing in his eyes.

"No! It's because  ** _you're not mine_**!" Odin yelled, then gasped. All the color drained out of his face. "I mean...No. What-what I mean is..." He stuttered, blinking hard and opening and closing his mouth like he was trying to say something but the words just wouldn't come out.

Really, it didn't matter what he said. Loki didn't hear a thing. The damage had been done and everything suddenly clicked into place. Of  _course_. He didn't fit because this wasn't  _his_  puzzle. Hell, this wasn't even his family. Thor wasn't  _his_  brother, Frigga wasn't  _his_  mother, and Odin wasn't  _his_  father. All these years, he had been living a lie- or  _trying_  to. All his broken, tearful nights, and this was the awful truth that had been lingering behind the alluring lies he had just been too desperate to validate.

" _Loki_..." Thor's voice was so soft, Loki thought he was imagining it. There were tears slipping down Thor's suddenly sorrowful face when he turned to look at him. And Loki  _resented_  him all the more for it.  _He_  should've been the one crying. Thor didn't get that right, he  _had_  a family he  _belonged_  to.

"Loki, you can go now, we- what's wrong? What happened?" Frigga stood in the doorway, one hand on the doorknob, one holding his clothes. Her wise blue eyes flickered from son to son to husband and back around again. "Odin?"

"Thank you, Frigga. If you could give me my clothes, I need to get out of here." Loki spoke firmly and politely. But there was an unmistakable frozen taint to his words.

"Loki, please, let me go with you." Thor sounded like he was about to break in two.

"No. I don't want to even  _see_  any of you." And there it was, the acid and the poison and the cyanide just dripping from his lips. There was something dark and ugly building up inside him, threatening to rot him to a cold, bitter  _skeleton_. "I cannot believe you didn't tell me. I cannot believe you made me live this  _lie_! You didn't even  _want_  me did you? What Odin, was I just a stolen relic to parade in front of the media? Just something ugly to pretend to love so you would be lauded for your charity?" He spit, sounding like a wolf growling at it's cornered prey. "And I was treated like the little pauper I was, ignored in favor of your  _own_  child." He laughed. "If it wasn't so convoluted and twisted, I might actually be able to wrap my brain around it. But alas, it seems I can't  _stoop_  to your level, Odin. I  _can't_  be what you  _want_. In your eyes, I'm merely a  _leech_ , right? Do let me get out of your way." He was on his feet, yanking his clothes on, not caring that everyone sa2 his bare chest, thin and lithe and positively  _puny_  compared to Thor's mighty girth.

"Loki, that wasn't the way it was!" Odin exclaimed, his face still red. But Loki was satisfied to see it was from  _shame_.

"Of  _course_  it was!" Loki thundered, losing his cool for good. It was  _gone_. ** _G-O-N-E_**. "Why else would you ignore me and treat me so cruelly! I was your punching bag, Odin. I was nothing more than a strategic move in your petty campaign." He snarled, now in Odin's face. And suddenly, he wasn't scared of the man. Not in the _slightest_. It was probably just the adrenaline battering his body, or the  _hatred_ , but he used it to his advantage. "And don't think I will  _ever_  forgive you for that, no matter what excuses you give. It all makes sense now. How you used to take  _Thor_  camping, and take  _Thor_  to the park, and play ball with  _Thor_ , and build treehouses with  _Thor_. You  _never_  did anything with me. You never  _cared_  about me, Odin. And now I know why." He pulled back. "Because I was  _nothing_. I was just a  _nuisance_. Just in the way. Just a strategy."

Loki was getting sweaty, his body on fire with true rage like he had never felt. But his heart felt cold, so very,  _very_   _cold_. Something inside him hurt, like a knife had been stuck inside him and twisted by a merciless hand. And maybe that was the hand of Truth. Because truth doesn't  _care_  if you're happy or comfortable, it has no conscience, it has no sense of timing, it had no remorse for dropping an atom bomb on him when he definitely could  _not_  handle it. At times like these, Loki  _prayed_ for a lie to make him feel better.

"Please, Loki don't go." Frigga grabbed his shoulder, trying to stop him from rushing out the door. "Honey, let us explain." She begged, her voice soft like she was talking to a rabid dog. Loki realized, that was probably what he looked like right now. He was practically foaming at the mouth.

"No." He smiled, but it wasn't a happy smile, it was a  _twisted_ ,  _ugly_  thing. "You can't explain this one away." He shrugged out of her grasp and was gone.

But now that he had no family, now that he was an  _orphan_...where did he go?

* * *

Tony woke up slowly, head still foggy and aching like the devil. He groaned, licking his dry lips and wishing for all the world that the nearest water was not a god damn  _light-year_  away. His phone was ringing like a little demon, making it feel like someone was taking a  _sledgehammer_  to his brain.  _Ow_.

"Hullo?" He rasped, blinking away the stars that exploded in front of his eyes when he stood. Damn, he needed to stop drinking so much.

"Stark, it's Loki. Can you meet me... _somewhere_?" There was a desperate rawness to Loki's pretty voice that made Tony stop in his tracks. Fuck water.

"Loki, what's wrong? Are you okay?" He didn't really manage to veil his care for the boy, but it didn't sound like Loki was in the state to really give a fuck.

"I want to get drunk. Like, really,  _really_  drunk. With  _you_." Now that, that was a  _bad_  idea if Tony had ever heard one.

How could he say no?


	8. Halfway Gone

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Drunk heart-to-hearts, Loki's losing it, but Stark may be just the antidote to the poison in his blood. And aren't drunken decisions always the best?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It's short. It's happy. I like this chapter. xD  
> I hope you guys do too!!  
> I love you all, and please review, pretty pleaseee?
> 
> The chapter title is from the song Halfway Gone by Lifehouse.  
> Enjoy ;)
> 
> ~xoxox, Rayn

"I feel as though me and my life out to be wrapped up in caution tape and tied with a pretty bow. Like a warning to all who wish to get close to me." Loki drawled, sipping tequila and looking a little dazed.

And damn, he did know how that felt. It had been a constant thought on his mind during high school. There had been the joke amongst his friends that he was the corrupter of the group. Certainly, that wasn't a  _lie_ , but it was  _hurtful_. Maybe, in some twisted way, Tony had done his best to live up to the teasing. Maybe he wanted to be that bad influence. Maybe, he wanted to be bad enough that no one would want to be close to him. He was self-destructing, he had been for years; and now, no one wanted to get close enough to get any on them when he detonated.

"Why?" He sipped his drink, eyes never really leaving Loki's slumped form beside him. He looked like hell. When the boy had walked in, Tony almost hadn't recognized him.

Clothes rumpled, hair windblown, red-ringed dull eyes, and a bandage clinging desperately to his burned arm. Tony had never seen Loki look like such a mess.  _Hot_ , but a mess nonetheless. The teenager looked like he had been dragged through hell by his toenails. The exhausted way he held himself and the expression of pain on his face was burnt into Tony's mind. He couldn't blink without seeing the boy he had been fascinated with for months, looking like he had just had his heart run over by a truck. Absently, he rubbed his chest, his lungs felt tight.

Loki scowled down at his drink. "Well, my family is turning me into a complete psycho. That's why I refused to move in with Thor! If I live with him...I'll lose my mind. What little is left of my sanity is draining away by the minute." He growled, a storm flashing dangerously in his eyes. "I can't  _believe_  Odin even said that to me, but while I'm in the hospital...that's just too low. I thought he...had some sense of, I don't know,  _humanity_  about him. It was like kicking me when I was already down." The skinny teenager hunched his shoulders, looking about ready to fold in on himself like a cheap suit. "What did I do to make him hate me, Stark? Am I so  _awful_?" For the first time all night, Loki drove his green-eyed gaze straight into Tony. It felt like someone had stabbed him with a  _harpoon_.

Anxiously, Tony shoved his hair off his face. "It's not your fault, hun. He's just a dick." He shrugged, wishing he was just the teensiest bit better at this stuff. "Like, my dad has a...somewhat illogical, but still valid, reason for hating me. Odin has no reason to hate you. You're... _perfect_. So you have fuckin' gorgeous black hair instead of blond. So you have emerald's for eyes instead of their blue. Blue is so ordinary! You can find blue eyes all over the place. But I've never seen eyes like yours." He stopped himself, he was rambling...and blushing. "Anyways, Odin isn't worth your pain. Trust me, I've met the dude." He rolled his eyes, thinking back to the party where his ear had been talked off by the white-haired man with an eye-patch. Ugh. Just thinking about it made him want to claw his eardrums out.

Loki gazed at him delicately. "You really think all of that?" His voice sounded odd. There was something... _off_. Tony just didn't know what it was yet.

He nodded. "I wouldn't have said it if I didn't. You may not have noticed, but comforting people really isn't my forte." He smirked, throwing up the mask of indifference and playboy, I-couldn't-care-less attitude.

Green eyes dug into his, it felt like the boy had a straight line to his soul. And it  _hurt_ , to be seen so openly, to be so metaphorically naked in front of this kid he barely knew. But at the same time, it felt like something new. Like Tony was healing by helping this overly-wounded, beaten down, broken boy. They were a little bit of the same, right now. Both trying desperately to get their head above water all by themselves, but needing help. And maybe, in each other, they would find that helping hand. Someone who understood them almost better than they understood themselves. No one understood Tony, no one had even tried to in a very long time. Loki was different. He listened. And Tony would do the same for him.

"Hmm. You're surprisingly good at it." The remark caught Tony off-guard. "I've never been that good at sympathy either. I've felt it for very few people. You're one of those people. Sometimes, that's just the way it goes. It's how we're wired, you and me." He shrugged. "Most act as if that's deplorable, that we should all have a bleeding heart for the world. I digress. I think that's silly and...for most, impossible." The intelligence firing through his eyes added lightning to the storm raging in green irises. "Or maybe we were both just raised by cold-hearted assholes who didn't teach us anything but to be cold-hearted assholes." He sighed.

Tony blinked.

"I like the first opinion better." He grinned, tugging on a lock of silky black hair. "Besides, if I am going to be an icy bastard, it  _wont_  be because of my dad. I'll never be anything like him.  _Never_." The look Loki gave him proved that the boy felt the same way about his own 'father'.

"Have you spoken to Howard since the fire?" Loki allowed Tony to twirl his hair around his finger, the silken feeling making chills race up and down his backbone.

They were leaning closer to each other now, the alcohol making them less cautious, less afraid. Tony was losing himself deep in those green eyes and the movements of Loki's lips. He didn't care what this meant. He didn't care that Loki was a boy and it had been pounded into his head that he was straight from the moment he walked out of the womb. Loki was  _gorgeous_.

"Mmm, no." He shook his head, frowning. "His, uh, right-hand man at the company called me. That's how I found out about the fire. Then Pepper, my dad's secretary called me to make sure I was okay. Apparently, my dad  _did_  care and  _was_  worried. But, Pepper tends to tell me stuff like that just to make me feel better." The conversation with Pepper hadn't really been enjoyable, but these days, they never were. She was just  _too_  worried.

Loki patted his hand. "She cares. It's sweet." He shrugged. "She sounds like Thor, though. He's always swearing that Odin cares and that he'll come around or that I'm just being too hard on the man. It drives me crazy." He snarled, looking down at his drink again. A good portion of that drink found its way down his throat.

Tony sighed. "I think we both got the worst dads on the planet." He declared dramatically.

Beside him, Loki snickered. "Maybe not the  _worst_. But pretty close." He turned on his stool to place his back against the bar and watch the young adults slightly older than them out on the dance floor. Tony studied his profile.

"You're really gorgeous." He murmured, not really caring whether Loki heard him or not. Judging by how fast his head whipped to look at Tony, he had heard. "I'm jus sayin'." He looked down, those eyes burning him  _alive_.

A hand came up to turn his face back towards Loki's. "Do you really mean that?" The softness in Loki's voice was enough to make him want to turn into a big, mushy puddle. Damn, the things this kid did to him. He nodded, a little too dazed to say anything intelligent, like, y'know, ' _yes_.' "You are a rare man, Stark. I never really know what to think of you." The proud, arrogant boy he had known for months on end,  _gone_. Loki was letting his walls down.

Watching his red lips move as he spoke, Tony wanted very much to kiss Loki Odinson.

_Shit._

* * *

Loki was trying very hard not to kiss Stark. That was a bad,  _bad_ ,  _ **bad**  _idea. But, oh, it was such a tantalizing idea too. And he could see exactly what those brown eyes were focused on. Stark wanted the same thing. Probably. Or he was drunk off his ass and was just staring at whatever caught his attention.

 _This_  is why Loki stopped drinking.

Fun Fact #5: Loki's a flirty drunk. Which used to get him laid quite a bit more than he liked to admit.

"You, uh, you wanna...uh, dance?" Stark was leaning closer. That wasn't intentional, surely. Maybe Loki should move back...so why didn't he?

"Sure." He smiled prettily. Stark licked his own lips, then pulled back and held out his hand. Loki took it.

The feeling of Stark's hands was a bit different than any other man he had ever held hands with. For one thing, Anthony slid his fingers between Loki's immediately. Loki doubted the man even considered that that wasn't generally the way it worked. Not in Loki's world. It was too intimate, for goodness's sake. For another, there were callouses and scars and a working roughness to his hands that was distinctly out of place in the rich upper class circles they were part of. Even Loki's hands were soft, smooth around the edges. The contrast was intriguing. It made him want to sit down and demand to know what each little scar was from, the story behind every callous. The reason his fingernails were dyed that  _hideous_  tint of brown. Why he kept his nails cut so ridiculously short. He wanted to know it  _all_.

On the dance floor, he and Stark got their limbs moving and their blood pumping quickly. He almost couldn't help giggling when Stark started goofing off, trying to get a laugh out of him with corny 90's dance moves. He even moonwalked, sending Loki into a fit of giggles before he was swept into strong arms and swung around wildly.  _No one_  could make him feel this free. Not a soul in the world.

And would you look at that, Anthony Stark was just what he needed to make Odin fade into a long-lost memory. With Anthony, he wasn't an orphan, or adopted, or too different, or a freak, or that emo kid, or a self-harmer, or anorexic, or inadequate. He was just  _Loki_. He just... _fit_. Everything clicked into place, every bad memory was erased, every tear-jerking moment was gone.

After a few songs, they dragged back to the bar, gulping down two drinks in quick succession. By now, Loki was practically dripping off Stark's shoulder, and a strong arm was hooked around his waist. The warmth coming off the engineer's feverishly hot body was almost as intoxicating as the vodka. The smell of motor oil and long nights and whiskey made his head spin. The brown eyes that dared to look directly into his, sent him reeling.

Something had  _changed_.

Loki was okay with that.

* * *

They stumbled out of the bar giggling. Loki was holding onto Stark for dear life, because if he let go, he was fairly sure he would fall unceremoniously on his ass. The compact man beside him, however, was perfectly steady on his feet. Either he hadn't drank nearly as much as Loki, or Loki was embarrassingly incapable of holding his liquor like he used to. At least he didn't feel nauseated.  _Yet_.

"I still can't believe you told that girl that her mother was a MILF." Stark was cackling rabidly beside him. "I mean, she was already ogling you, Lo-Lo." He stopped walking to take a calming breath.

Loki feigned indignation. "She was hot! Gods, this is what happens when I get drunk, Stark!" He broke his charade to smile at the giggling man beside him. Apparently, Stark had his moments when he was the exact opposite of a depressed drunk.

"That, and you fall asleep in bed with me!" Stark sang, teasing him and tickling his sides playfully.

Loki started howling, laughing freely for the first time in far too long. " _Stop_! P-please, Stark!" He bent, trying to wiggle out of Stark's wickedly tight embrace. But the man was far too interested in making him laugh and squeal to let up. And he didn't, until Loki's sides were hurting and he was panting like a dog.

They were face-to-face, now, Loki leaning against the pint-size genius and trying desperately to catch his breath. It seemed impossible with those lips so close, the smell of the man so strong and  _intoxicating_. He could barely hold on to his frenetic thoughts enough to keep himself from kissing him right then, right there. Stark's eyes were somewhere around his mouth, brown eyes turning into molten gold,  _desire_  screaming from them. He could feel the strong hands on his back, holding him upright.

Loki had never felt this way. It was like walking off a  _cliff_. There was no controlling it, no shoving it into place, no organizing and orchestrating things like he usually did. This wasn't the same as all the relationships he had had before. The no-strings-attached, fuck-buddy boyfriends and girlfriends he had had in the past. Those were flings, relationships he had never cared about, bridges he had burned zealously, because he wanted no reminder of them. He didn't even remember the name of the girl he lost his virginity to. Or anything about her except that she was blonde. The perks of being drunk.

"Are you going to just  _stare_  at me, or do something?" He teased, smiling when brown eyes shot to his, wide and surprised.

"H-how...You mean, you want me to... _kiss_  you?" Apparently, Stark was having a hard time remembering the English language. Loki smirked. Man, it felt good to be _wanted_.

Sure, he was vulnerable, drunk, hurting. But Loki didn't drown himself in sex and booze to get over things. Or, he  _had_. But he wasn't  _this_  time. This feeling in the pit of his stomach wasn't going to go away in a few days. Or hours. It wasn't going to fade with his hangover. The attitude would come back, but he sincerely adored Anthony Stark. And wasn't that  _scary_.

"Yes, Anthony. I do." And wow, could those brown eyes look any deeper into his soul? But he had a good idea of what Stark was searching for. "You're hesitating. Why?" There were many different reasons why Stark could be reluctant to give in, to kiss him.

 **a** ) He had never been with a man, that Loki knew for sure.

 **b** ) Loki was vulnerable.

 **c** ) Loki was drunk.

 **d** ) Despite the rumors, Stark was a  _gentleman_.

 **e** ) Their homophobic fathers.

 **f** ) They were both extremely volatile, intelligent, and slightly dramatic. If they did date, the break-up would make Chernobyl look like an  _amateur pipe bomb_.

Stark chose letters  _b_ ,  _c_ , and  _d_. "It's just, you're wasted and the whole thing with your...family...I don't want to take advantage of you." The pink that tinged his cheekbones made Loki  _want_  to spend the night in his bed. He inwardly groaned. As wonderful and charming as chivalry was, it sure was a cockblock.

"Darling, trust me, I'm the last man you could take advantage of. Just ask Thor." He winked, getting his point across. Stark blanched. "But, he's out of my life now. I've always made my  _own_  choices, Anthony. This being one of them. I won't wake up in the morning regretting anything. Will  _you_?"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Gah. I love you all. Hope you have a good week!! I'm going to try to start putting up chapters of this more quickly. <3
> 
> ~xoxox, Rayn


	9. Love Only Knows

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> And when Stark came to sit beside him at the picnic table and wrapped his long, strong arms around him, Loki didn't mind pushing his face into the warm shoulder and inhale the delicious faint smoke of the cigarette Stark had been smoking. It felt good, it felt soothing, it felt like his pain was blowing away just a bit.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope you guys enjoy this chapter. Sorry, it has taken me so long to update this xD. They'll be coming faster, I assure you.  
> The title of this chapter is Love Only Knows by Josh Groban.  
> I LOVE YOU GUYS.

~ _Sometimes I'm terrified of my heart; of its constant hunger for whatever it is it wants._ _The way it stops and starts._ ~

Loki woke up as a disgusting, sweaty, headache-ridden clusterfuck of self-loathing and emotional backlog. Because, really, had his life ever been  _this_  enormously fucked? Here's a quick rundown of the recent  _fantastic_  facts of Loki's rollercoaster life:

a) He's a fucking orphan.

b) Last night he probably screwed up any possibility of having a relatively normal life.

c) He kissed his best and currently only true friend.

d) He  _enjoyed_  kissing that friend far more than he would ever admit- even to himself.

e)  _Everything_  hurt- especially his burnt arm.

f) It was Monday. It was noon. And he had missed half his classes.

g) He's a fucking  _orphan_.

To be honest, it's not really  _that_  bad. Things could be worse. Of course, in Loki's currently  _fabulous_  state of mind, he seriously doubted it would be more than five minutes before things  _did_  get worse. And wasn't that just fucking perfect.

The taste of cigarette smoke still lingered on his tongue, and the acidic wear-and-tear on his teeth reminded him of the copious amounts of vodka currently roiling around in his stomach, and the soft smell of something that was spicy, hard-working, and had caramel eyes that made him melt emanated from his t-shirt. A smile toyed with his lips, lips that had been crushed to a certain engineer's lips not too long ago. That kind of made everything suck a little less hard.

Oh dear god, is he a special kind of screwed.

Loki's fairly sure he's going to scream before the day is over. I mean, really, he's never felt this utterly hopeless and helpless. He has  _nothing_. No family, no home, no friends, no sanity left to be destroyed. He was a little ball of misery, insanity, and despair. Because everything good in his life was destroyed. Everything he clung to dissipated. Everything he reached for stayed just out of reach. The people he loved hurt him, and the things he loved left. Loki was abandoned, betrayed, and wounded possibly beyond repair. Do such things as happiness and joy and peace  _exist_?

Groaning at the vortex of banal teenage angst whirling in his head, he pulled the covers over his face and huffed a huge sigh. Where was he? Considering the fact that absolutely everything- even he himself- smelled like Anthony's strange amalgamation of expensive cologne and all things scientific and geniusy, Loki guessed he was at the engineer's apartment. And that smell brought back all of last night's completely stupid, absolutely perfect, fantastically euphoric events succeeding his utter breakdown in his car. Yeah. That hadn't been even slightly pitiful. -snort-

 _"I won't wake up in the morning regretting anything. Will_ you _?" The look on Stark's face was priceless. He looked ready to swoon. Really, stop being cute. It's_ not _okay, Anthony. Loki has to keep his head to stay all suave and smooth and superior._

_The genius licked his lips, making Loki's heart skip a very fluttery beat. His heart had turned into a hummingbird and was beating at about three thousand miles an hour, and if Loki survived this, he was fairly positive he'd never feel this on fire and this alive ever again. Why is it that pain makes the fleeting moments of happiness all that much more razor sharp and in focus and overwhelming? Was it just the Universe apologizing for the seventh circle of hell that Loki currently resided in? Or was life just cruel and taunting that way? Loki neither knew nor cared, because right now there were ridiculously red lips pressing against his._

_Everything got warm and comfy and sweet and perfect. Loki couldn't think because his mind was spinning so fast he was dizzy. Or maybe he was dizzy because this kind of euphoria was a fickle 'fuck you' to vertigo and a regular pulse. And gods, he felt secure and safe and untouchable in this man's arms, like the world couldn't get to him, like he was shielded from all the bad memories and painful reminders and the past few hours of breaking down and crying and agonizing over everything he suddenly felt as it flooded into his veins like a fatal poison. His life was arsenic, and Anthony Stark was the only cure. There_ was _an antidote. A teenager with narcissism, ADHD, and addictions he didn't even begin to realize the extent of. A boy with daddy problems, suicidal tendencies, and more recklessness than Loki had ever experienced._

_A soft warm tongue that promised the intoxicating taste of cigarettes and whiskey licked the curve of his lips gently. Loki's mouth opened without his permission, and that taste of everything that made up his new friend/ confidante/ and permanent irritant, slid into his mouth and shoved his mind into pure white noise._

_In that moonlit alley behind the bar, where nothing existed but them and the twinkling, blinking, smiling stars above them, Loki kissed the one person on earth who could truly understand him. In a world where they were the only things that mattered, Loki could stop thinking about the fact that he was suddenly an orphan, that everything in his life was a lie, that he was breaking inside and shattering into tiny little miserable pieces of agony and heartbreak. And he loved Stark, for being his shield and his comfort and his little teddy bear, cried on and held close to his heart because nothing else could soothe that pain that resided in his chest. Even if it was superficial and shallow now, Loki loved him. Loved him with all his heart could muster._

_Stark pulled back and started trailing kisses along his jawline. Loki closed his eyes tightly, wanting nothing but to ingrain this moment into his brain forever, to pull it out of his memory when everything went to hell again and again- because, with Loki's luck, it surely will continue to go to Hades. Maybe this was all he would have of happiness, of real, true happiness that he had always envied in his brother. Maybe for tonight, and tonight only, Anthony Stark would be his sunshine. Even in the midst of a furious hurricane, there is a calm, there is a moment of sunlight, there is a moment when the skies clear. Before the storm comes crushing down upon the serenity again, shattering it until it's over, until the havoc has been wreaked and chaos and destruction have had their way. This was the eye of the storm. It was not a delusion, it was not him doing as he had done before and throwing himself into sex and lust to escape his life, this was someone loving him and caring about him and wanting him. Not just his body- although knowing Anthony, that was surely a big part of it- but_ him _. Who he was. How he thought. His silvertongue and sharp, cutting wit. He was as much of a handful as the strong, cold, screwed-up teenager holding him close. He was a bitchy, misanthropic, wolfish young man with a flair for the dramatic and a razor sharp tongue and extreme issues with trust. Anthony was an addicted, out-of-control, absentminded genius with a diva-narcissist-self-destructing screw loose. And somehow, Fate had pulled them together, like two flies on her spider's web called Life. Maybe she would devour them heartlessly, or maybe she would let them be, happy as two in such a position can be._

 _"Come on." Stark pulled away, threading their fingers together in his unique way. "Let's go_ home _." The smile on the brunet's face really made Loki just want to burst into tears with how soft and sweet and warm it was and all the comfort and concern and care and love it conveyed. Did Stark realize the immense impact he had on his ridiculously imbalanced state of mind right now?_

 _He trailed behind the teen in his car, letting himself be led back to Stark's apartment. It was the first time he had ever gone home with another man (other than the last time Anthony dragged him home whilest they were both drunk off their asses). Then again, there were a lot of firsts with Stark. He was the first person to make Loki feel safe, to make him feel like it was okay to let his walls down just a bit, like maybe in_ time _he could_ trust _the boy. He was the first to kiss Loki slowly, tenderly, like it wasn't just a prelude to sex and biting and ripping off clothes and pulling hair and sneaking out early in the morning. He was the first to push past Loki's mask of indifference and irritability and misanthropy to weasel into his heart and force Loki out of his comfort zone of hatred. And god, that was refreshing and freeing and all these amazing feelings Loki wasn't sure he actually had the_ ability _to process._

 _And then there was the way Stark_ looked _at him. Like he was the most beautiful, special, perfect human being those brown eyes had ever seen. It made Loki feel like he actually meant something to someone and it was so amazing it_ hurt _. It hurt to feel this accepted and wanted and desired. It was something he had never felt before. No one had ever looked at him like they saw right through his masquerade, like every sophist lie and carefully wrought mask was as translucent as glass. Somehow, that touched his soul in a way he had been positive no one could ever touch him._

 _All of this was an overload for his massively underused heart. For so long- uh,_ nineteen  _years (also know as **forever** )- he had cut himself off to this feeling, this emotion, this overwhelming sensation of giving a shit about someone. He had never even cared about himself. As narcissistic and selfish as Loki was, he hated_himself _more than anyone, even Odin. For almost two decades, he had been loathing himself for not fitting in, for not coloring between the lines, for being so damnably_ different _. And Odin had fueled that all-consuming fire, Thor had fed the flames as well- not on purpose, of course-, and all of his backstabbing friends and Benedict Arnold peers had made it grow and the flames consume more of his soul and eat away his insides. Now that someone was healing those burns and those wounds, it hurt._ The healing always hurt _. Even a balm to soothe the soul burns before it comforts._

 _This was all spinning around in his brain and mixing with endorphin's and repressed pain and the misery of knowing your life as you know it was always just a_ lie _, whisking together to make a batter of sensory overload. Then they were stopping, and Stark was at his door, pulling him into a tight hug before Loki even realized he was sobbing. Everything he had gone through in the past 72 hours was too much. Everything hurt, everything burned him, everything wounded him deeper and_ deeper _. When would it become too much? When would Loki snap, once and for all?_

Now, Loki buried his nose in the pillow under his head and breathed in Stark's intoxicating mix of smells, relishing the somewhat icky warmth that cocooned his body and seemed to thrum across his skin. He could feel his heartbeat, that hyper-awareness that comes with being hungover making itself beyond recognized. There was a desperate need for a shower and coffee and clean clothes and shampoo and glorious, glorious  _soap_  that presented itself. Loki ignored it for the gross warmth of his little curled up half-asleep position and the fact that not moving was much better than getting up which guaranteed him upchucking everything he had ever eaten as well as all his guts- which he much preferred inside his body.

"Goodmorning, sunshine." A door opened and a cheerful voice, blessedly low and husky with sleep, assaulted his poor ears. Somehow, it didn't hurt like it should have. Maybe because now he liked that voice and appreciated it's depth and richness and warmth and dear god, he's turned into a mushy sap overnight. Is this what emotional devastation and boys made of teddy bear fluff do to a nineteen year old teenager?

"I'm not sure it's either good or morning." Loki murmured, burying his face in the pillow and forgetting how to breathe for a few seconds. Then claustrophobia- something about  _smothering_  yourself tends to bring that up- kicked in and he looked up and breathed in cool, fresh air again. Stark was smiling down at him with twinkling brown eyes that melted Loki's hard, icy core. "Okay, maybe it's not  _so_  bad." He grinned playfully.

"That's the spirit!" Anthony knelt down by his bed and placed his chin on his arms right in front of Loki's face. "You need food, like carbs or something, and water and coffee and probably Tylenol." He commanded.

"Ugh. You are  _determined_  to make me fat and addicted to painkillers, aren't you?" He moaned throwing his arms over his face with a dramatic sigh.

Long fingers ran down his ribs firmly. "Oh yeah, you're so gonna be  _so_  overweight, Loki." He could  _hear_  Stark's eyes roll. "Come on, up and at 'em, princess." Two hands fastened around his wrists and helped him gingerly get to his feet.

" _Ow_." He groaned, burying his face in Anthony's shoulder. "Shoot me.  _Please_." He could feel the other boy laughing at his misery.

"Contrary to popular belief, all dashing, charming, ridiculously sexy millionaire bachelors are not serial killers." Anthony teased playfully. "Seriously, let's try food, caffeine, and Tylenol before execution, 'kay?" He kissed the side of Loki's head.

"Okay. Then I have to go shopping, because these clothes are disgusting and the rest of my wardrobe was either burnt with the rest of my belongings, or...is still at the Odinson's." He looked down at his ragged nails, bit to hell by his own jagged, nervous teeth. Fabulous. His perfect manicure, ruined.

Tan hands twined with his own. "Hey, it's okay. I'm here. Alright?" Loki looked up into warm brown eyes that promised of a light at the end of this tunnel, even if he couldn't see it now. Gods. Curse you, Anthony.

He nodded and allowed himself to be dragged into the kitchen.

* * *

Tony stretched out on the floor, staring up at the ceiling while Loki showered. He still couldn't believe he had kissed the boy. And he hadn't gotten slapped for it. In fact, Loki had actually  _liked_  it. Will wonders never cease? Of course, there was still the niggling  _doubt_  in the back of his mind that said Loki was just vulnerable and scared and upset and would have kissed any boy who dared to comfort him and hold him and love him. And maybe they were both that way, because really, who had  _ever_  dared to comfort them and hold them and love them but each other?

But there was the fact that, yeah, Loki had been through an insane amount of personal tragedy in the past few days and he had come to Tony.  _Tony_. Loki had come to him. He couldn't get over it. Sure, it didn't mean they were in love, or trusted each other, or hell, it didn't even mean they  _liked_  each other- or that Loki liked Tony because Tony is finally willing to admit that  _yeah_ , he likes Loki a whole fucking  _lot_ -, but it meant it was the  _beginning_  of something. Something that could end up being... _amazing_. Fuck, that was  _scary_. But Tony wasn't running away. Not this time. Because Loki Odinson was fucking  _special_ , he could see it in those radioactive green eyes that threatened to burn his flesh and char his bones. He had never felt that way before.

The air conditioner clicked on. Cool air started filling the apartment. Everything was silent except for the sound of the A/C and the running shower. It was like serenity embraced the apartment for the first time in ever. When had Tony ever experienced peace or quiet or calmness? When was his life not a maelstrom of anger and addiction and Howard and media problems and the consequences of his own fuck-ups? When did he lay down without being drunk as a skunk or getting laid? When did he ever just lay still and let his mind think happy thoughts? When did Tony  _have_  happy thoughts,  _ever_ , for that matter. It all hit him like a brick wall.

Tony was happy.

Sort of.

Momentarily.

Knock on wood.

No, literally, someone was knocking on the door and Tony had to get up- groaning and grumbling irritably (whoops there goes happiness)- and answer the fucking door. Cue one goatee-adorned jaw drop.

"Stane?" He frowned, what was his dad's right-hand man doing at his apartment? Sans Howard, thank fuck. "Uh. Whatcha doin' here?" He tugged a wayward curl- like they weren't  _all_  wayward (-snort-)- nervously.

"Well, I was thinking maybe we could have a little talk." Obadiah sounded a little too calm and placating for Tony's taste. "Your dad didn't think coming would be wise because of your...current estrangement." He smiled neutrally.

Obie was not one to interfere with Tony and Howard's shit relationship. This had never happened before and really Tony wasn't okay with it happening now. What went on between him and Howard was strictly between him and Howard. As much as he hated the man, he didn't really want all the words passed between them to be aired out in front of the media. Especially Howard's recent insinuations about Tony causing Maria's death. A sharp pang hit his chest like a dagger to the heart.

"Uh. Okay. Fine." He stepped back to allow the man inside. Then followed, and flopped on the couch insolently. As much as he respected Obie, he wasn't going to even  _pretend_  to be pleased that the man was here, in his apartment, invading his personal space and short-lived happiness. Plus, Loki was here, and he was pretty sure the boy would not want Odin finding out he was fraternizing with Tony. Especially if Odin knew anything about Loki's iffy sexual orientation. " _So_ , what's up?" He looked up at Obie, all business man in his Italian suit and pricey gold watch and bald head and meticulously trimmed beard. And, really, he was fairly sure he already knew what the older man wanted.

"Well, I'm working on a new weaponry project and I could really use your expertise. There are a few things I'd love to pick your brain about. And...well, your dad mentioned you were looking for work. This will pay  _handsomely_." Tony barely kept himself from rolling his eyes. Everything was about money,  _money_ ,  _ **money**_. Tony was tired of money, he was sick of it. Every time it was mentioned, he wanted to barf. Although, okay, he really  _did_  need a job because if he didn't get one soon, the  _money_  would run out and his rent would be due. And getting kicked out on his ass was not the type of rebellion he went for. Ascetics weren't really his style.

Tony looked up at the ceiling. "Nah. I'm good. I really don't want to be in the armory business. I'm pretty sure Howard has supplied the world with enough weapons of mass destruction for the both of us." He muttered. 'Merchant of Death' was not an idle title. His dad lived up to it with every fiber of his being. Tony refused to follow suit. Even if they were rare and scant, Tony did have a few morals- including, thou shalt not kill the world with atom bombs and big ass missiles.

Sure, Tony could pretty much build  _anything_. And explosives were child's play. He'd been building rockets and mini bombs when he was like  _six_. So, it wasn't even slightly surprising Obadiah wanted his input on whatever this 'project' was. Nevertheless, ever since Maria had explained to Tony exactly what it was 'Daddy' did for a living, he'd had a strong antipathy towards it. Maybe it was the idea of having international blood all over his hands- even if he wasn't the man to drop the damned thing on another nation, he had made its existence possible- or maybe he was just a pacifist, but he couldn't bring himself to be willing to follow in his father's ensanguined footsteps. He couldn't even enter the Stark Industries building without a shiver shaking his spine.

The towering man frowned down at him. "Come on, Tony. You know how it is. The player with the bigger stick  _always_  wins by default. Don't you want to keep America from being jugular-deep in war? And hell, if she  _does_  go to war, don't you want to be the nation with the most firepower?" Obadiah had crossed his arms over his chest and was looking down at Tony with a sense of false patriotism. Tony knew for a fact that Stane would sell to the highest bidder, American or  _not_.

He laughed. "I actually don't  _care_. Appealing to my sense of patriotism isn't gonna get you anywhere, Stane. I said no. And I  _meant_  it." If Tony hated anything, it was having to repeat himself. When he said no, he meant it, no takesies-backsies. And, letting his voice gain a bit of completely unnecessary venom, "I'd think you'd know  _better_  than to  _question_  Howard Stark's son." And okay, considering how much he really hates his father, he sure points out their biological relation a whole fucking lot. There  _is_  a valid reason for this.

Howard Stark is known as being a subzero, Arctic, frozen son of a bitch that won't take no for an answer and will  _not_  tolerate being questioned. He is the smartest, quickest, most sly bastard in the business. He's made his millions quickly and impressively; building an  _empire_  and making a name for himself that is recognized all over the world. His charm is unparalleled, but everyone knows instinctively that getting on his bad side in  _not_  a place they want to be. He plays the media like a master puppeteer. He could  _ruin_  anyone with a few words in the right ears.

If Tony so desired, he could be all that and more.

In fact, he could be all that and  _worse_.

Being the son of an Arms dealer, millionaire mogul, and full-time charming  _asshole_  had it's rare perks. Tony considered his bone-chilling tone and passive-aggressive expression to be a few of those perks. Apparently, it worked on Stane, because the man blanched a smidgen. "Look, Tony, I'm just looking for a little help. No need to get upset." Tony heard the shower turn off. Time for Stane to go bye-bye.

"Yeah, well, you looked and you didn't find. Not here. I'm not getting into the weapon-making business. That's my  _final_  word. Now, it was nice to see you, give Pep my regards and tell her I'll see her around." In other words,  _get the fuck out_. Maybe it was Howard who had taught him to dismiss people. But Tony really doubted it. There were some skills he had learned all by himself. And hell, Life is a fucking kick-ass teacher, too.

Getting to his feet finally seemed to get the message through that shiny bald skull. Grimacing, Stane headed towards the door. But Tony saw something in the man's grey eyes he didn't really like. Something a little violent and threatening. Something he couldn't  _trust_ , that diminished his respect for the man a little more. Hiding beneath all that meekness, there was a bit of an antagonist in Stane. A chill spread across Tony like an eerie breeze in a wintry cemetery.

"Let me know if you change your mind, Anthony." Hearing his full name come off a tongue other than Loki's made him go rigid. "I can always use a high-powered brain like yours." The bearded smile wasn't half as charming as it was supposed to be.

"Yeah. Bye, Obadiah." He closed the door, locking it and leaning back against it wearily.

Well, that was fucking  _weird_.

* * *

Skipping classes had been fun- although also unintentional. Loki was free and smiley and  _close_. And Tony fucking loved every second of it, soaking up the attention like a god damn  _sponge_. Because really, he knew Loki could be back to his usual acrimonious, frigid self in the morning. And yeah, he still hadn't gotten him to agree to stay at his house until he happened to work something else out- which okay, his  _devious_  plan was that Loki wouldn't want to move after a week or so, but hey- despite threats of tickling and other various forms of good-natured torture.

"Oh come  _on_ , Stark. You and I both know we'd rip each other's throats out within the week!" Loki protested, swiping some of the whipped cream off Tony's coffee with a pale, long finger. Tony gulped, watching him lick it off his digit with a pink tongue.  _Damn_.

Recovering before Loki could notice his severe blush, Tony sighed dramatically. "I know no such thing! I do know I won't be able to sleep knowing you're out here stubbornly sleeping in your car or on some cardboard in a dark, dangerous alley or something." He teased. "And seriously, you gotta admit, my apartment is big enough for both of us. And it's comfortable. And warm. And there's an actual  _bed_." He grinned, sipping his latte with a predator's look in his eyes zeroed in on one pretty raven-haired teenager that was regarding him with narrowed green eyes that,  _yeah_ , took his breath away just a  _little_. If 'little' meant completely and totally and oh my god, was there actually such a thing as oxygen?

Then his phone rang.  _ **Thor**_. Shit. Fuck. Damn it. Stupid fucking Thor.

" _Thor_? Why is my brother calling  _you_?" The confusion on Loki's face mirrored his own. Then, Tony realized, he had been the one to practically turn knight-in-shining-armor and show up at the boy's hospital room a day or two ago. And really, had the fire only been  _three_  days ago? It felt like a fucking lifetime. "Well, answer him." The misery screaming in Loki's eyes starkly contrasted the indifference expressed on his face.

"Uh, hello?" He answered reluctantly, knowing his walking a very  _thin_  line here, like, fucking anorexic. God damn Thor for putting him in this position.

" _Tony_! Have you seen my brother? Loki kind of...disappeared the other day. We're all very worried about him." The grief in the older boy's voice hit Tony hard. He grimaced.

"Uh..." He looked at Loki, who was staring off in space with a steely set to his lips. "Uh, no. No, I haven't seen him, Thor. Sorry." As far as Tony was concerned, Loki needed to take his time to deal with this and contact his 'family' whenever he felt he was ready to face them. Of course, avoiding a problem is never healthy, but Loki was kind of dealing with a lot, right now. Surely a little unhealthy avoidance wouldn't hurt. Anyways, any confrontation he had now would probably end up in emotional scarring out the ass and Tony  _refused_  to be responsible for Loki's pain. Tony was all  _cure_ , not cause.

"I'm scared, Tony. There's no one else he would go to. Steve hasn't seen him, and his professors say he didn't show up for class. What am I going to  _do_?" The desperation in Thor's thunderous, emotional voice tugged  _hard_  on Tony's heart-strings, but what could he do?

Then his phone was plucked out of his hand and Loki's white fingers were wrapped around it so tightly, Tony was pretty sure the boy was going to  _crush_  it. "Thor, I _don't_  want to see you. I  _don't_  want to see Frigga. And I sure as hell don't want to see Odin. When and  _if_  I ever do again, I will let you know. Until then,  _stop_  calling. Leave me  _alone_! I deserve at least a modicum of respect from you, in the very least." His voice was hard as diamond, cold as ice.

Tony never wanted to hear that steely tone directed at him.

* * *

Loki felt everything inside him go below freezing. He was turning into ice. It wouldn't have surprised him in the least if he had turned blue by now. A shiver gripped his spine and suddenly he was trembling like an earthquake. The warm wetness on his face translated to tears, and the pained look on Anthony's face told him there was no hiding this behind an excuse and a quickly fixed expression. No, the boy understood far too well for that.

And when Stark came to sit beside him at the picnic table and wrapped his long, strong arms around him, Loki didn't mind pushing his face into the warm shoulder and inhale the delicious faint smoke of the cigarette Stark had been smoking. It felt good, it felt soothing, it felt like his pain was blowing away just a bit. The tears were soaking into the engineer's black AC/DC t-shirt, and his pitiful sniffling was muffled by warm flesh and there was  _someone_   ** _here_**. Someone was just sitting here, rubbing his back and whispering sweet nonsense and brushing his hair with rhythmic fingertips. Was this what he had been missing? Was this what he had been looking for for so long?

Nevertheless, it wasn't like last night. He couldn't just push away the overflowing emotions or the rib-cracking sobs or the throat-closing anxiety that wrapped itself around him and sucked away his considerable self-control like a leech. It felt like he was  _breaking_  in two. The betrayal and the sound of his brother-  _no_ \- of  _Thor's_ desperate voice put him right back where he had been when he was staring in shock at Odin and realizing, oh yeah, he  _wasn't_  part of this family. He got strange looks because he  _didn't_   ** _belong_**.  _He_  was the problem.

He was just a lie.

He was nothing.

He didn't belong.

He didn't fit.

He wasn't right.

He wasn't worthy.

He hurt.

He ached.

He wanted to  _die_.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, hope you guys liked it.  
> If you did (or, more likely, didn't) reviewwww. Tell me the good, the bad, the ugly.  
> Also, I have started an email account in Loki's name for you guys to email if you need to vent, talk to someone, complain, bitch, moan, anything. You can even tell me not to email back. I just started to realize that a lot of people can relate to the stuff I've put Loki and Tony through. And considering the massive shit storm that is their life- that's not good. No one should suffer alone.  
> So, here it is:  
> trickstergod_ofasgard@yahoo.com  
> Talk to me, lovelies. Or talk to Loki (it's his account, after all.).
> 
> ~xoxox, Rayn <3


	10. Welcome To My Life

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> There was a sense of reticence around Loki, even when he was seething or crying or just throwing a motherfucking tantrum. It seemed like he was always in control of himself. Tony wanted nothing more than to take that control and rip it apart at the seams, to see Loki let loose and free. There had been one or two occasions when he had seen the raven-haired teenager lose his cool, or laugh freely, or dance like there wasn't a soul on earth watching- although, honestly, Tony, for one, couldn't keep his eyes off him. Loki was uptight, straight as a razor blade's edge. And Tony knew exactly why, because for a time, he had been the same fucking way.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Updated A/N: So, this is a transplant from FFN, but I figured I should keep the old Author's note, just in case. I haven't read over these old chapters in a while, so I'm not sure which chapters have triggering content. ALWAYS READ THE AUTHOR'S NOTES, kids, they are there for a reason. Anyways. I'm back! miss me? I'll be updating more frequently, now, guys, finishing up transerring old chapters and I'm starting to work on new ones for Different Stars! Keep tuned in! More is on its way!
> 
> ~Rayn, xoxox (5/22/2016)
> 
>  
> 
> Yeah, I know, I've already published this once earlier today. But the lovely DecadentGrrrl pointed out to me that this is TRIGGERING. Duh. Dumb, dumb moment on my part. Please, DO NOT READ this if you have had any past in self-harm. Or if you're thinking about self-harm. And if you are, PLEASE DO NOT DO IT. Honestly, private message me. I will listen to absolutely anything. If you need to vent, cry, bitch, moan, please. I am here. Having dealt with this myself, I don't want anyone else to struggle alone. So, I'm here. This is a warning. And in future chapters, there may be more of this type of subject. Don't continue. I'm here for anyone who needs a listening ear.
> 
> xoxox
> 
> Okydoky, kids. The name of this chapter, Welcome To My Life, is by Simple Plan. Totally go check it out, because it makes a special appearance in this chapter. I used some of the lyrics for Tony, simply because I was listening to it and felt like it perfectly explained these two boys we so adore.

Loki was sitting outside on the balcony when Tony finally got home. He hadn't wanted to leave his new 'roommate' here all by himself, but with rent baring down on him like a fucking steamroller, he hadn't much choice. He _really_ needed a fucking job. But, his feet hurt, and his back was tired and really, all this 'job hunting' bullshit, was _not_ fun. Why the fuck did his dad have to be such a bastard? _Ooooh_ , right, because he believed Tony had killed his beautiful wife. Not that he'd ever admit it, but Tony probably wouldn't have been much better than Howard, had he been in his position.

"Hey." He flopped into a chair and set his cool beer on the railing. The sun was shining brightly. It warmed his skin and sunk into his bones, making him feel like a limp noodle. Ugh. _Relaxation_. No wonder everyone liked it so much.

"Any luck?" The porcelain skinned boy next to him didn't really appear interested. He looked preoccupied, as he had for the past week and a half since they had gotten drunk, kissed, and essentially, he had collapsed in Tony's arms in grief, confusion, and desperation.

Tony frowned and shook his head, studying the clouds as if they held all the answers to the questions that were whirring around in his mind.

1) What _exactly_ were he and Loki? Acquaintances? Friends? Best friends? More?

2) Was Loki blowing hot and cold at him because that kiss had been a moment of weakness and vulnerability? Was their lack of closeness now simply because of what he was dealing with in his head?

3) How could he go on like this? Without money? Without support? When all the sleep he was getting were cat naps between classes?

4) Did Loki _need_ him?

5) Did, against all odds, _he_ need Loki? Was the impregnable Tony Stark...hoping? wanting? needing? comfort from another human being? -gasp-

Tony couldn't really process anything. His medicine had run out a few days ago and his mind was currently running free. It was driving him up a wall, he couldn't focus on anything and even the simplest thing was making him flip his shit. Seeing Loki stare at him in complete and utter shock when he had woken up to the kitchen being demolished- half of it already blown to smithereens thanks to a experiment gone wrong (the very thing which had sparked his tantrum, actually)- by a very exhausted, frustrated, insane Tony hadn't been a moment he wanted to experience. _Although_ , it had been kind of cute to see Loki so sleepy with his hair all messy. In his _pajamas_. Yeah. That was pretty fucking _adorable_ actually.

"Anthony," Loki sat up and shifted in his chair to look Tony full-on. Uh-oh. "The college called. They're going to be reassigning rooms to the students whose dorms were burned down. It's just taking them a little while to figure out what to do with everyone. But I should be out of your hair in a few days, at the very most." The prim way Loki spoke took Tony a minute to fully process. His mind was wheeling. Loki was so _pretty_. "Anthony? Anyone in there?" He waved a long, white, slender hand in front of Tony's face.

"Uh, right. Yeah. Okay. Um." He blinked. "You know you can stay here, right? I mean, they'll probably be housing three to a dorm room." He shrugged, trying his ADHD-best to appear completely nonchalant. Damn. He _missed_ Adderall.

Loki sighed. "I realize staying here _would_ be more comfortable, and most likely a more positive experience for _me_." He glanced at Tony. He could feel the green eyes cutting through him like a hot knife. "But what about you? I know getting a job is stressful on you, even more so because I'm staying here. I don't want to be a burden on you, even though I would try to get a job should I stay. And there's also that kiss..." He trailed off, looking out at the city beneath them.

Tony shifted uncomfortably. "I understand if it was just a one-time thing, Loki. It's okay. I'm not expecting anything." Of course, that didn't mean he wasn't _hoping_ for something...

6) _Was_ he gay? Or, bisexual, because, let's face it, he still liked boobs...a lot. But he liked Loki a lot, too. Like. _A_. _Lot_.

Loki smirked. "You're too quick to reassure. I know that kiss meant _something_ to you." Tony could feel his cheeks get hot. "It did to me too."

Tony looked up at Loki. He looked so calm and cool. There was a sense of reticence around Loki, even when he was seething or crying or just throwing a motherfucking _tantrum_. It seemed like he was always in control of himself. Tony wanted nothing more than to take that control and rip it apart at the seams, to see Loki let loose and _free_. There had been one or two occasions when he had seen the raven-haired teenager lose his cool, or laugh freely, or dance like there wasn't a soul on earth watching- although, honestly, Tony, for one, _couldn't_ keep his eyes off him. Loki was uptight, straight as a razor blade's edge. And Tony knew exactly why, because for a time, he had been the _same_ fucking way.

After Maria died, and his dad pretended like he didn't exist, Tony had started breaking rules and being 'naughty'. He'd become salacious, insolent, rebellious, arrogant, cocky, licentious, and a bit unhinged. He had broken every rule his father had ever given him- including, but not limited to, having casual sex, gambling, drinking ( _excessively_ ) and doing all manner of drugs. He let go, broke down, started to destroy himself from the inside out. All very publicly and with the help of many ' _friends_ ' and women of various _professions_. However, before this moral demolition, Tony had been straight-edge. He had gone to school, stayed away from drugs and alcohol. Hell, he had hardly drank _coffee_. Before his mother died, he'd been a _virgin_ , believe it or not.

But, unlike Loki, Tony _destroyed_ the person he was. He became something _new_ \- even if this story is the same old song and dance. Something hardened and laughing in the face of everything good and pure. Now, he _missed_ his innocence. It's bliss.

"Then why leave?" He took a long drag from his beer. _Maybe_ if he drowned himself in enough alcohol, this would be easier.

"Because, darling, I think we both know how that would end." He waited for Tony to meet his eyes. " _Badly_. For _both_ of us." He smiled softly. "You need to take this slowly. I know you've never...done _this_. You've never been with a man before. Have you?" The look in his eyes was enough to show that he well knew he was right, and that that question was just for Tony's sake. To make him face it.

Obediently, Tony shook his head.

"Then me being here, right here, always in reach, always in touch. It's too much right now. Being so...unwittingly serious so soon would be a mistake. Everyone needs personal space, _especially_ you and I." Loki patted his hand reassuringly.

Tony nodded. He was right. "You're different, Loki. I don't know how, I don't know why. You're just _different_. It's fucking _scary_. But I really do...like you." He flinched at his own wording. "As childish as that sounds. But it's like you're the first person who's ever understood, y'know? You get it. Youknow _what it's like to be me. To be hurt, to feel lost, to be left out in the dark, and kicked when you're down. You know what it's like to be pushed around, to be on the edge of breaking down. And no one's there to save you. (1)_ You get that. No one else does." He carded his hand through his fucking barbaric curls. "I don't want to lose you. Not just because...you're someone I can relate to. But because I trust you. It's so _stupid_ , but I do. And I've never trusted anyone, Loki."

Loki threaded their fingers together. "I know, darling. You won't lose me. I just won't be living here." He toyed with Tony's fingers thoughtfully. "If anyone knows what it's like to lose someone you trust, it's me. I wouldn't do that to you."

Tony nodded, watching the skinnier, taller, more put-together teenager like he was his muse. "The problem is, Lo-Lo, if you leave, I'm just gonna be lost. Hurt. And I think we both know what happens when I'm like that. I'm not one for self-preservation or anything, but everything in me is screaming at me to be careful." Whoa, why was he being so honest? He really needed some Adderall...

Loki laughed, but it wasn't a happy laugh. It was tragic, and betrayed Loki's hurt and pain and everything he was going through internally. Tony wanted to _fix_ it. To fix everything. To fix _Loki_. "You want a guarantee? I can't give you one. I've been just as let down as you have in the past. Obviously, relationships of any kind are not my forte. But I'll _try_. I give you my word on that, I will try my hardest to make this work." Tony was honestly beginning to think his heart was on the verge of _exploding_. Literally. It was beating so hard against his ribcage, he thought it was gonna break some bones or something. "This isn't the easiest thing for me, either, darling. Trusting isn't something I've made a particular practice of." Tony could see the events of two weeks ago flashing through his friend's eyes. Of course, trust was a tentative thing for Loki _right now_ , understandably.

Tony very much wanted to _strangle_ Odin. This would be ten times easier for both of them if it weren't for their fathers.

"You can trust me, Loki. The _last_ thing I want to do is hurt you." He murmured, his eyes down and his face red, because god damn it, he _didn't_ say stuff like this.

Loki grinned. "You're blushing." He chucked Tony's chin with a long, skeletal finger, making the older boy grin brightly. "I think you've proven quite efficiently that there _is_ a heart in that chest of yours. Never mind the rumors swearing otherwise." He stood, letting go of Tony's hand and leaning against the railing.

Tony smiled up at him, happy that, for once, someone seemed to understand that he wasn't the cold, salacious bastard the media made him out to be. He _could_ care about people, it just wasn't often that he found anyone worth more than his disdain and unworthy of concern or compassion. There were few people who wanted anything more from Tony than a quick trip to fame and fifteen minutes worth of media time. And of course there was the river of booze and drugs and women at his dispense. Motives for Tony's affection were hardly ever pure.

He took out a cigarette and lit it, eyeing Loki through the flame. "How are you? You know, with everything?" He asked the standing, long-legged teen.

Loki snorted. "Thor calls about every five minutes. Frigga calls at least once a day." He shrugged. "They won't give me any space." His shoulders dropped and he sagged against the railing, looking exhausted and worn. "I just need _time_ to think. God forbid Thor even _consider_ thinking about _anything_. He thinks I should be over it by now. Maybe he's right. But...it's a blow to everything I've been safe in and depended on for most of my life. My family, no matter how out-of-place I felt in it, was _everything_ to me." He shook his head, his eyes averted from Tony's and focused on something off in the distance.

Tony frowned. "I can talk to him, tell him to stop calling you so much. It's not for him to decide when and _if_ you get over this. I mean, I sure as hell wouldn't. But then again, I'd probably have punched Odin out instead of calmly walking away." He felt his spirits lift when Loki gave him a lop-sided grin. At least he could cheer the boy up a little.

"That _certainly_ crossed my mind." Tony noticed his fingers lightly tracing the scarred skin on his arm. It had finally healed, for the most part, from the burns a few weeks ago. It matched the scars on Tony's hands, spreading across flesh in lacey patterns and marring otherwise young, clean skin.

"We match." Loki nodded towards Tony's hands, obviously noticing Tony gazing at his arm. "I noticed the other day when you held my hand." A soft smile spread across his satin lips.

Tony could still remember the feel of those lips on his. And he couldn't _wait_ to feel it again.

* * *

Loki shifted his backpack tiredly. He _really_ needed to get to the library. But, as with most things in his life, people were in his _way_. Dear gods, teenagers were not supposed to walk _this_ slow! And really, he didn't like being out and about on the green this much. There was too much chance of-

"Loki!" Thor's booming voice thundered out of nowhere.

... **this**.

God help him. He kept walking, this time rudely trying to squeeze between people- _ew_ , people, touching, bad, bad touching, ew- and get to the safe haven of the library. If he could just get to his quiet, solitary, book-laden sanctuary. Then everything would be okay. There amongst Shakespeare, Tolstoy, and Wilde, he would be _safe_ from his family and his problems and the questions that assaulted him at every turn.

If Thor got a hold of him and started talking, Loki would break down and let himself be coerced to forget all of this had ever happened. But he couldn't. If he did, he might just go insane. He was at breaking point, as it was.

Fun Fact #7: Loki is very soft when it comes to his- when it comes to Thor. He will break down at the slightest begging or coercing or big puppy dog eyes. Really, it's _pathetic_.

"Loki!" A big hand closed around his arm.

Loki very nearly let out a very _uncharacteristic_ curse. Hmm. Maybe Stark was rubbing off on him. Ah well. " _What_?" He spat, spinning- in the midst of a very lethargic _crowd_ , mind you- to stare _viciously_ at Thor.

The blond young man looked taken aback by the green fire in his brother's eyes. "Loki, I've been calling you for _two_ _weeks_! What happened to you? Where are you staying? We need to _talk_!" Well, his voice was still just as loud and thunderous as Loki remembered it to be. Shame. He was getting a migraine from _hell_.

"Yes, I am well _aware_ you've been calling, Thor." He felt like he was talking to a two-year old and he really couldn't handle that. Living with someone who was the same level of intelligence as he was had spoiled him. God, let him get assigned an _intelligent_ roommate. _Please_. "I have been _ignoring_ those phone calls. If I had _wanted_ to speak to you, I would have _answered_. I didn't want to be hunted down and attacked like an _animal_." He wrenched out of the blond's overzealous grip. Yeah, that was going to leave bruises. _Lovely_. His poor pale skin.

"Loki, please don't do this. I didn't want you to find out that way." Thor sounded like a kicked puppy...until Loki focused on _what_ he had said.

And that got his mind racing in a fast, vicious, bitter cycle he was _not_ capable of dealing with right now. By the gods, Thor, you're killing Loki. " _Wait_." He put up a hand to keep Thor from going on. "You mean you _knew_ I was adopted all this time, and _you never told me_?" His voice wasn't shaking, his voice wasn't on fire- rather contrarily, it was _frozen_ cold- his voice wasn't suffocating. But _he_ was. Whether anyone else could tell, Loki was shaking like a leaf, burning life fire, and suffocating like someone had their hands around his long, delicate windpipe. Is this what it feels like to be betrayed, over and over again?

Quite honestly, Loki hadn't been holding _any_ sort of grudge towards Thor. Thor was his soft spot and Thor had always remained guiltless and innocent in all of this. Until now. _Now_ , Loki very much wanted to hit someone- mainly fucking Thor- because his big brother had hurt him deep down further into his heart than anyone but Thor could reach. He had stabbed him in the back because he _knew_ all that Loki had struggled with. He _knew_ Loki had felt like he didn't belong, and for good reason! Because he _hadn't_!

Of course, Loki didn't think about the _negative_ effect finding out that he actually didn't belong to his beloved family would have had on him any sooner than right here and right now.

Clearly, this wasn't his most coherent, level-headed moment.

"Um." Quite appropriately, Thor looked like a deer in headlights. Well, _oops_. "I-I did. I mean, I helped them...well, I helped them pick you up from the orphanage, brother." The quite shame and guilt in Thor's voice and expression was just _not_ pronounced enough to give Loki _any_ satisfaction. Not that he was sure he could even glean any satisfaction from the extraordinarily painful moment. _His heart hurt_.

"Do _not_ , don't you fucking _dare_ , call me **that**." And yep, there went every teensy bit of self-control he had. He had said a _bad_ word. Better look out, Thor, Loki's bout to _lose_ his shit. "You sat by me while I cried and hurt and ached over how Odin treated me and how I looked so fucking _different_ , and you didn't say one word to me about...about this...this... _lie_?" His voice was dangerously low. And really, the look of fear and wide-eyed _surprise_ on Thor's face made him want to just scream. And cry. And scratch his eyes out. And rip his heart from his chest.

_Lies. Lies. Lies. Lies. Lies. Lies. Lies. Lies. Lies. Lies. Lies. Lies. Lies. Lies. Lies. Lies. Lies. Lies. Lies. Lies. Lies. Lies. Lies. Lies. Lies._

While Loki was a lost little boy trying to please his parents, Thor was hiding _this_ from him? Thor was lying to him? Thor was letting him wallow and drown in this unfathomable ocean of misplaced confusion, pain, and pent-up anger? _No_. Of course not. _Surely_ there was some mistake. This was _Thor_! Thor would _never_ do that to him. _No_. It _can't_ be true. Loki's hearing things.

Fun Fact #8: Loki's sense of ironic humor transcends the barrier between social and personal conversation. He is as sarcastic with himself as he is with the rest of his very limited social circle.

"It wasn't a lie, brother!" Mmk. Thor. You are just fucking asking for Loki to break the ever-loving fuck down and kill you. At this point, Loki was fairly sure he could claw the man's throat out of his neck. Yeah. He has anger issues. "You are part of our family! My family! You are my little brother!" Thor's face was actually heartbroken. _He_ was heartbroken.

_Thor_.

_Thor_ was heartbroken.

_Thor_ did not have the right to be heartbroken.

Loki had to take a moment here, to breathe. If he didn't he would either pass out or scream. Neither was something he particularly wanted to happen here. He wanted to keep his cool. Really, he'd bitched his 'family' out enough to last him a life time.

Count to ten. One. _I want to kill Tho_ r. Two. _He lied to me_. Three. _He hurt me_. Four. _Why aren't I bleeding_. Five. _He looks sad_. Six. _Maybe he is_. Seven. _I don't care_. Eight. _Yes, I do_. Nine. _But I'm the one whose been betrayed_. Ten. _Screw it, I still want to kill Thor_. Maybe he should count to twenty?

"Thor. I am _not_ your family, I am **_not_ ** your brother. We are not related in any way." Whoa, that _hurt_. Is this what ripping your veins out and stomping on your own heart feels like? Loki's pretty sure it is. "I am _not_ an Odinson. You know this, and have for a long time." He was fairly satisfied with how calm and collected he sounded. Too bad, that wouldn't last long.

"Father always said you-" Oh look, there's his Self-Control, running down the street, screaming, away from him. He almost waved. Yeah. He's officially going insane. No big deal.

"Odin? _Odin_ said? Yeah, I _heard_ what he said, Thor. He said I wasn't his. He said I wasn't part of this family." It was all coming back, the tight ball in his chest, the flashing red, being unable to breathe and feeling like the world was spinning. "I heard it all, Thor. _Every_ **_last_ word**." He shook his head. "I don't want to talk to you, Thor. I'm not your little brother anymore. _I never have been_." He shoved away from the man, who had once again latched onto his arm. Bruises. Bruises galore. What a beautiful metaphorical image of his heart. Hmm.

"No, Loki, please..." There were those painfully sad eyes. Painful, because that _should_ be Loki. It should be Loki holding onto Thor for dear life, begging him to be his brother, to not leave because he needed him. He had the _right_ to ask for that, to be teary, to be breaking down. But no, Thor was doing all that. Thor was having the crisis. _Thor_. It was always Thor. And as much as he loved the boy, he had always been put first, spoiled, coddled. Frigga had done her best, but even she had favored the perfect blond over her sullen raven-haired orphan.

Loki recoiled. He could feel little hot needles pricking the backs of his eyes, and his lungs wouldn't work and his throat was mutinying because suddenly his windpipe was too, _too_ small. And his phone was buzzing, it was probably Anthony and as much as he wanted to lean on the boy, he had to deal with this on his own. No matter how badly it hurt, he needed to do this. For _himself_.

"Stop calling me, Thor. Stop... _all_ of this." He waved an all-inclusive hand at his big brother. "It's over. The lie has been revealed. I'm _not_ an Odinson, I never was." He shrugged, ignoring the tears that threatened to drown his eyeballs and spill down his cheeks.

"Loki, no. You are my brother. You are Loki _Odinson_!" The boy was crying wholeheartedly now. Loki wanted to rip his hair out.

His heart was breaking.

His skin begging to be split open by a razor's kiss.

His mind telling him to do _awful_ things.

All just to get by.

All just to make it all stop.

All just to make the pain _go away_.

"Goodbye, Thor." He turned away, feeling the tears fall, feeling his lips tremble, feeling his body weak and worn and exhausted. And everything was just too much. He was on the edge. He was _breaking_.

* * *

 

 

 

Loki sat in the quietest, darkest corner of the huge campus library that he could find and sunk down against the wall. Everything here was shrouded in musky shadows and book smell. It comforted him in that old, dusty, untouched way he had loved since he was a child and Odin had just yelled at him till he cried. Whenever he had needed to get away from _everyone_ , he had hid in the library at the house- mostly unused until he got older and practically _lived_ in there- and cried until he was calm and relatively in control of his emotions again.

Thor had never found him. It had taken Frigga _years_ to figure out where her son disappeared to for hours at a time. Odin hadn't even _looked_. Now, Loki wasn't sure if that made him extraordinarily sad, or just the same as before. Why did Odin _matter_? He had never established a connection with his adopted child. He had never shown care or love or even respect for Loki, instead, becoming a tyrant who controlled and broke Loki down into a million, heartbroken, confused pieces.

' _What do I do now? Where do I go from here? Who am I? What am I? Are my parents still alive, like, my real parents? Who am I? Loki...who? Am I even from around here? Is my entire life a lie?_ ' The questions spun like a destructive tornado in his head. _Loki Odinson_. He no longer existed. So who was in his place? Who was the _fraud_ that had been masquerading as him?

Fraud.

Idiot.

Nothing.

Orphan.

_Lie_.

These are the things that made up Loki Odinson.

* * *

 

Tony paced desperately. What now, _what now_ , **_what now_**? Everything was falling apart. Everything. Abso-fucking-lutely _everything_. Well. There was just one thing to do now.

* * *

Tony strode past Pepper and Miss Fucking Flawless, into the conference room. "You stopped paying for my college, you heartless bastard?" He spit out the words before he was halfway through the door. It really wasn't a question, it was fact. But wanted Howard to answer for it.

Howard looked up in shock. _Yep, I'm still here, asshole._ The thought assaulted his brain grimly. This was not going to be fun. Brown eyes that mirrored his own darkened until they were shit-brown and glowering. Pepper nearly ran into him, obviously coming to be damage-control. -snort- There wasn't anyone in this world who could keep Tony from ripping this company apart, limb from limb, board by board, seam from seam. _Destruction_ was kind of the one thing he was really good at, and before this day was over, his father would know that _very_ _well_. It would be ingrained in his brain. He could _ruin_ whatever the fuck he wanted.

"Excuse me, I don't think you're allowed in this part of the building." There was a cold glint in the man's eyes and his mouth was a hard, white line of rage. "Furthermore, I don't see much need in paying for something that won't profit me _at_ _all_."

Tony picked up a potted plant and threw it across the room- he likes throwing shit when he's mad. "Doesn't _profit_ you! Am I supposed to be your newest _machine_ , Howie?" He laughed, hysterical and a little unhinged- because right now, if Tony Stark is anything, he's _insane_. "The Stark 2.0?" He snickered, his hands fastening around the back of some white-washed businessman's chair until his knuckles turned bone-white. "Do you think I'm some robot? That I'll just bend to your will? That I'll just do whatever you want as long as I get money and booze? You're fucking _nuts_. _I don't need you_." He snarled, rabid as a dirty street dog. "But you, _you_ need me, old man. Without me, this company is defunct. Useless. _Gone_. Without me there is no future, because this" He stabbed a finger against the side of his skull. "This right here is the money-maker and you fucking _know_ it." All the blood was draining out of Howard's face. "You _need_ me. But I don't need you. _Whoops_. That wasn't part of the plan, huh? When you and I fall out, and the media finds out, your stocks are gonna drop past the crust of the earth and into _hell_." He looked around the room at all the wide eyes staring at him as if he had finally lost it. News flash: Tony lost it about five years ago, you ignorant _morons_. "And I'm sure any one of these lovely gentlemen will be happy to make sure they find out in about, oh, five minutes."

Howard looked like he was either going to kill Tony or pass out. Guess why. Go ahead. _Guess_.

Because Stark Industries is Howard Stark's one and only baby. It is his _child_ , his progeny, his legacy. Tony was just an aside. Just an _oops_. Just _Maria's_ kid. Howard didn't care about Tony. He cared about his business. Every scant ounce of his love was poured without a second thought into the company, the legacy, the fame and fortune, the death machines.

"This right here, it's gonna ruin you. With a few simple words, I will have ripped apart your future. How does it feel, hmm? Feels pretty fucked up, doesn't it? Welcome to _Karma_ , Howie. You just got some of your own fucking medicine." He snarled, pretty much positive he was currently foaming at the mouth. Yeah. It was pretty much a given that Tony had god damn rabies.

Now, there was nothing to do but get drunk and hope all of this was a nightmare.

"You're not my son. I never wanted you. You're just a mistake, an oops, you're _nothing_." Howard's voice hit his back like a dagger. Precise. Certain. A well-executed _kill-shot_.

He shrugged and turned to look at his dad. "Then maybe no one will miss me when I finally drink myself to death, like you've wanted to for years, huh?" He smiled, a scarecrow smile on a suddenly old-beyond-years face. Tony was old, haggard, worn down and broken like an old toy. Played with by few, discarded by all. Tony was a show, a captivating enigma. But no one loves enigmas. No one loves mysterious characters full of dark intentions and damaged pieces that really don't fit right. No one loves people like Tony.

_No one_.

* * *

Loki looked down at the small, innocent little blade in his hand. He couldn't believe it was still in his backpack, after all this time. How long had it been? Weeks, months, _years_? His mind was too busy to remember. Not that it really mattered...

... _What's one more broken toy_?

 

 

 

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oops. Angst. THIS CHAPTER BLOWS, guys. I'm so sorry.
> 
> But, TEARS. Because Loki. -I get a little in love with my characters, ignore me- TEARS. Because my poor Tony. Gah.
> 
> Anywhoooooo. Please review. Tell me it sucks. Say you hate me. No, wait, don't. I LOVE YOU ALL. Hugs. Kisses. xoxox, you know the drill.
> 
> Oh, and because I haven't mentioned this in a while, and someone might have forgotten -snort-, I don't actually own any of these characters, except Miss Fucking Flawless and random businessmen that don't speak or have names because I can't be bothered with piddly extras, y'know. All this shit belongs to Stan Lee, you magnificent man you.
> 
> Review, pahleeeeaaaasseeeee. Oh, wait, did I already mention that? Oops.
> 
> P.S. There is a reason for all the Howard bullshit. Just waiiiit. Have patience. I know, I need new bad guys. They are on the way!
> 
> xoxox (already mentioned that one too, huh?)
> 
> (1) is lyrics from the song mentioned/ the title.

**Author's Note:**

> Almost every chapter (as well as the title of the fanfic) is named after a song by some artist or another. This chapter is Counting Stars by Sugarcult.  
> Thanks again <3


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